


Broken Pieces

by patchfire, raving_liberal



Category: Glee
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alive Finn Hudson, Amicable Break-Up, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blacking Out, Dating After Loss Of Partner, Depression, Doctors & Physicians, Drug Abuse, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flirting, Grief/Mourning, Intervention, M/M, Making Out, Mania, Medication, Multi, Non-Consensual Kissing, Normal Life, Past Character Death, Psychologists & Psychiatrists, Relationship Discussions, Relationship Negotiation, Risky Behavior, Stability, Summer Fling, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-05-11
Packaged: 2018-05-14 11:21:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 23,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5741827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patchfire/pseuds/patchfire, https://archiveofourown.org/users/raving_liberal/pseuds/raving_liberal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Blaine's death, Kurt completely loses his ability to cope and function. Finn and Puck—together for 15 years—travel to New York at Carole's urging to provide comfort and support for Kurt when it becomes clear that he is on the verge of a total breakdown. The stability they provide turns into a relationships none of them could have anticipated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [GleePromptMeme](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/GleePromptMeme) collection. 



> Edited by david_of_oz (with an assist by glennui and pletzel). 
> 
>    
>  **Prompt:**  
>  Kurt and Blaine have been living together in NYC for several years (could be married, could just be a committed partnership). Blaine dies under suitably dramatic circumstances, like a theatre fire or heroically saving a kitten from an explosion. Finn and Puck (in an established relationship) rush to New York to provide comfort and support for Kurt when it becomes clear that he is on the verge of a total breakdown. Kurt is a hot mess - "coping" with Blaine's death in the worst possible way, mixing pills and alcohol, engaging in self-destructive behaviors. Finn and Puck provide stability. The three briefly become involved in a sexual relationship, but in the end, Finn and Puck realize that they are happier as a couple and prefer to maintain a more brotherly relationship with Kurt. Kurt is alone, but the story ends with him thinking fondly of his time with Puck and Finn and finally being able to heal and put his life back together again, the implication being he is going to go on a date with a guy who flirts with him at a restaurant or coffee shop at the end of the story.

Three weeks after Blaine’s funeral in New York, Finn and Puck’s lives have gotten back to normal in Milwaukee. Of course there’s still a lot of residual sadness over Kurt losing his husband so young, somebody they’ve also known for so many years, but Finn hadn’t really spent any significant amount of time with Blaine _or_ Kurt over the past decade, so Blaine’s death doesn’t hit Finn hard as it could have. Finn wouldn’t necessarily mind going out the same way Blaine did, even—though he’d definitely like to put it off as long as possible—because all things considered, it was a pretty heroic death. Succumbing to smoke inhalation while rescuing another member of his cast from a theatre fire? Definitely makes a death heroic. 

Not that what Finn and Puck do every day doesn’t have meaning. Puck’s been at the credit union for almost seven years, working as a loan officer, and Finn just finished his tenth year at Milwaukee High School of the Performing Arts the week after they got back from the funeral. They have a little blue house in Kilbourn Town, which they’ve been in for just over two years now, with just enough of a backyard that they keep talking about maybe getting a dog. Puck was even able to buy an updated bike the previous summer. It’s not rescuing semi-conscious sopranos from an electrical fire, but they both get to come home at the end of the day, so life is good. Finn couldn’t ask for more.

Finn phone rings fairly late at night for a Tuesday, and when he see it’s Carole calling, his brow furrows with worry. “Hey, Mom,” he says, when he answers. 

“Finn, how are you,” Carole says, sounding tired and like she’s not all that interested in the answer. 

“We’re doing fine. How are _you_?”

“I’m—We’re worried,” Carole says with a long sigh. “About Kurt.” 

“Yeah, I know this has all been really rough on him,” Finn says. “He agree to go back to Lima for a while this summer?”

“Not exactly.” 

“What’s his plan? I know he _said_ he’d be okay, but I know it’s got to be rough,” Finn says. 

“Burt called earlier, and it was at least the third time that Kurt’s been so drunk that we weren’t sure what he was doing,” Carole says. “At least, we hope it’s only alcohol.” 

“That doesn’t sound like Kurt,” Finn says. “Is Burt sure? Maybe Kurt was taking a nap or something.”

“He admitted to having ‘a couple’ of drinks,” Carole says. 

Finn sighs. “Is Burt going to fly out there?”

“That’s part of why I called. He’s thinking about it, but—do you think that’s what Kurt needs? He doesn’t want to make things worse, if it’s not.” 

“I don’t know, Mom. I’m not any better at this than you are.”

“It’s just that he’d only be there for a few days or a week at most, and then he’d be gone again,” Carole says, clearly fretting. 

Finn walks into the kitchen, where Puck is washing dishes, and puts the phone on speaker, setting down on the counter. “I’m in here with Puck now, Mom,” he says. “It sounds like there’s something you wanted to ask us?” Puck looks up, raising an eyebrow. 

“It’s—I mean, the two of you would be so much more able to relate to Kurt,” Carole says. 

Finn sighs softly, looking at Puck. “You want us to fly out to New York to stay with Kurt.”

“Well, yes.” 

“Something new?” Puck asks quietly, glancing between Finn and the phone. Finn nods.

“For how long, do you think?” Finn asks. 

“Surely three or four weeks would be enough for Kurt to get stable,” Carole says, her voice falsely bright. 

“Weeks?” Puck says with a wince.

“That’s a lot of time for Puck to take off work,” Finn says. “Maybe I could go out for a week or so?”

“I don’t really like the idea of you going out alone for two weeks,” Puck says softly, turning away from the phone as he speaks. 

“Mom? Me and Puck need to talk about this,” Finn says. 

“Oh. Of course,” Carole says. “I can text you, or vice versa. Or I can call tomorrow.” 

“We’ll talk it over tonight, and I’ll give you a call tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay. Good night,” Carole says. 

“Night, Mom,” Finn says, ending the call and looking up at Puck. “So, that happened.”

“What’s the new thing that happened? Things, I guess,” Puck says. 

Finn shakes his head. “She says Burt’s called a couple of times, and Kurt’s sounded really drunk.”

“I can’t _blame_ him.” 

“No, me neither, but I also understand why Mom and Burt are worried.”

“And now they want us to spend the summer in New York basically babysitting?” Puck asks. 

“I guess,” Finn sighs. “I mean, he’s my brother, and if they’re worried about him…”

“Yeah, I know, and I can’t imagine,” Puck says. “But it’s a lot to ask.” 

“I know. And like I said, I’d go without you if you can’t take the time,” Finn says. 

Puck frowns. “If it’s bad enough she’d ask both of us, you going alone isn’t going to help, is what I figure, and then you’re gone for a couple of weeks, we’re both unhappy, and it’s still not really doing Kurt any good,” Puck says. “Plus I’m selfish.” 

“I don’t really like the idea of losing my summer with you,” Finn admits. “Do you think you’ll be able to take the time without problems?”

“I have vacation time accumulated, and I generally don’t take it, so if I explain it’s a family matter, yeah, I should be able to get away,” Puck says, rubbing his forehead. 

“This wasn’t how I wanted to spend your vacation time,” Finn says. He puts his arms around Puck and pulls him in close. 

“Yeah, me either,” Puck says, turning his head and resting his cheek on Finn’s shoulder, his breath warm on Finn’s neck. “I guess we could do some sightseeing while we’re there.” 

“We could see some shows, too,” Finn says. “Remember how you said you wish we had time to see that one with the, you know. The hats.”

“I’ll make sure and get the tickets, since most people won’t know which one you mean,” Puck says with a soft snort. “Is Kurt going to be pissed when we show up, do you think?” 

Finn shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe he’ll be relieved we’re there.”

“Yeah. I hope so. I’ll definitely have to go in all day tomorrow, and probably at least part of the day the rest of the week.” 

“We’ll figure it out,” Finn says, kissing the top of Puck’s head. “Maybe just being out there a few days will be enough.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited by david_of_oz

Finn decides the best approach to dealing with Kurt is not to present his and Puck’s visit as optional. He makes all the travel arrangements while Puck schedules his vacation time. Once everything is set, Finn texts Kurt a brief message that includes the first actual notification that they will be visiting. He doesn’t sent Kurt the flight information, just the date they’ll be arriving. 

“We’re doing the right thing, right?” Finn asks Puck, as they’re packing enough clothes to last for at least two weeks. 

“We’re doing the necessary thing,” Puck says. “I don’t know if Kurt’ll view it as the right thing. I think that Burt or Carole might’ve been the better choice. They’ve gone through this, even, you know? But we’re what he’s got, so yeah, _we_ are doing the right thing.” 

Finn sighs, putting the last of the clean socks into his suitcase. “Are we doing the right thing for _us_ , though?”

Puck puts down the shirt he’s holding and wraps his arms around Finn. “We’ll be fine. It’s just a weird location for your summer break, right? And… well, it sucks to even think about it, but if the situation were reversed, you’d probably want something similar, right?” 

“Nope, not thinking about that,” Finn says, leaning back into Puck. “I’m glad we can be there for him. I’m just afraid we’re not going to know what to do when we get there.”

“Maybe we don’t worry too much about doing anything other than catching up, doing some tourist stuff, that kind of thing, at least at first,” Puck suggests. 

Finn nods as he closes the suitcase and sets it on the ground next to the bed. “Yeah,” he says, “that’s probably a good plan. I’m just…” He shakes his head. “I don’t know what to say or do. I can’t imagine being in his position, and I don’t want to, but it’s not like that’s something I can say to _him_. I’m a little afraid the two of us being there— what if that’s like rubbing his nose in it, like I’ve still got you, you’ve still got me, and he’s got nobody?”

“Then maybe instead of drinking and presumably lying around, he’ll get mad,” Puck says, this time pulling Finn into a brief kiss. “And Kurt’s… I mean, we both know he gets caught up in his own shit, but it’s not like he goes around demanding other people be unhappy when he is.” 

“I guess mad’s better than the alternative,” Finn says.

“Exactly.” Puck sighs a little. “He probably has a lot of decisions to make and no idea how to make them. We can be a sounding board at least.” 

“Yeah. At least,” Finn agrees. He carries their bags up to the front door to wait for the taxi, since they aren’t sure how long exactly they’ll be gone, and don’t really want to leave their cars in the airport lot for weeks on end. 

The cab shows up about twenty minutes later, and two hours after that, Finn and Puck are seated together on the plane to New York. The flight is uneventful. They land exactly on time, then take a taxi—they have way too much luggage for mass transit—to Kurt’s Kips Bay apartment building. 

Finn knocks on the door, exchanging a look with Puck when Kurt doesn’t immediately answer. He knocks again, louder this time. Another twenty to thirty seconds pass before there’s the sound of locks opening and the door opens, Kurt leaning against it and staring bewilderedly at Finn and Puck.

“What?” Kurt says. 

“Hi,” Finn says. “It’s the day we were coming to New York, remember?”

“Already? I thought that was tomorrow,” Kurt says, stepping back so they can get through the door as he continues leaning on it. Finn takes a look at Kurt and starts assessing him before they even get all the way into the apartment. Kurt looks like he slept in his clothes, which are rumpled. His eyes have deep shadows under them, and his face is notably thinner. He’s also either in need of a haircut or at least a good wash and styling. He smells like a nightclub.

“It is tomorrow,” Finn says gently. “It’s past one in the afternoon.”

“We probably should, uh, freshen up?” Puck says. “We can all three do that. Meet you back out here or in the kitchen after some time in the bathroom?” 

“Yeah, Kurt, you go ahead and take a shower, and we’ll get ourselves set up in the guest room,” Finn says to Kurt, who still looks somewhat confused. 

“A shower. Alright,” Kurt says, closing the door and walking very slowly toward the master bedroom. “Don’t move the things on the desk.” 

“We won’t,” Finn says. He waits until Kurt actually disappears into his bedroom, door closing behind him, to start walking towards the guest room. Once he and Puck are inside it, he shuts the door and sits down on the bed with a soft sigh. “Shit.”

“At least we know Burt wasn’t overreacting?” Puck says, squatting to open one of their suitcases. “What’s on the desk? It just looks like some papers.” 

“Probably Blaine’s papers. I know he worked in here sometimes,” Finn says. He grabs the other suitcase, and starts putting his and Puck’s clothes into the empty dresser drawers. 

“Oh, yeah, that’s right.” Puck shakes his head and puts some clothes on the top of the bed. “Maybe what we do this afternoon is call a cleaning service, and what we do tomorrow is tell Kurt we’re getting out of the apartment for the day.” 

“It smells like he hasn’t opened a window in here for months,” Finn says. “Jesus, he looks _bad_ , babe.”

“I know. Sitting here isn’t working, though.” Puck sighs and stands. “Is there any part of New York we know he doesn’t associate with Blaine?” 

Finn shakes his head, not sure if there is or not. “Maybe we should have just planned to kidnap him and taken him back to Milwaukee with us. It’s not too late.”

“Could we get him on a plane without incident?” Puck asks, sounding doubtful. “We just need to get him to change his direction a little.” 

“Yeah,” Finn sighs. “You go ahead and take a shower if you want. I’m going to see if he’s got any actual food in his kitchen. Grocery shopping’s still a trip out of the apartment, right?”

“Unless he has automated delivery set up.” 

“Even if he does, we’ll go pick up some stuff we like,” Finn insists, making shooing motions towards the door. 

“I’m just saying, don’t give him too much _credit_ if there’s food,” Puck says, grabbing a clean shirt before walking towards the bathroom. “I smell bad, huh?” 

“Nah, I just don’t know if I can keep it together if I have to go through his kitchen with an audience,” Finn says. “This is so goddamn depressing.”

Puck sighs and stands in the doorway of the bathroom. “Yeah, I know. Be out in a few.” 

When Puck closes the bathroom door, Finn walks into the kitchen. As he suspected, it contains very little food and a large amount of mostly-empty bottles of alcohol, ranging from probably-expensive bottles of wine to the kind of cheap flavored vodka that they sometimes catch on students at MHSA. The refrigerator holds a few take out containers, but Finn can’t judge how old they are by visual inspection alone. The crisper drawer has a sad head of shriveled lettuce and two carrots floating in brownish water in a ziplock bag. Finn finds the trashcan and tosses the dead vegetables, then puts the completely-empty bottles into the recycle bin and the others up in a cabinet. By the time Puck exits the bathroom again, the kitchen at least no longer contains anything too disgusting. 

“Should I start a list?” Puck asks, leaning against the refrigerator. 

“Yeah. Put ‘everything’ on it,” Finn says. 

“It’s summer. We don’t need peas, beef stock, or heavy cream,” Puck says. 

“Looks like Kurt still uses that fat-free half ’n’ half anyway,” Finn says. “Could get some frozen peas, though. You never know when you’ll need an ice pack.”

“Frozen corn would work just as well,” Puck sing-songs as he pulls out his phone. “You think Kurt’s still on the quasi-vegetarian kick?” 

“No way to judge from the food I found, and yeah, I am using ‘food’ very loosely here.”

“I’ll stick with mostly-vegetarian, then,” Puck says as he types. “We can always eat a steak down the street. Does he have aluminum foil and plastic wrap and all that?” 

Finn starts pull open kitchen drawers to check. The second drawer has seven different pill bottles in it. While Finn doesn’t recognize all of the names, he does know that at least two are tranquilizers and another two are antidepressants. He looks from the pill bottles to Puck, sighing. 

“So it’s probably a fair guess he’s taking this with the booze, right?” Finn says, keeping his voice low, since Kurt’s shower seems to have stopped. 

“We’ll move them in a day or two,” Puck says, his voice equally quiet. He steps beside Finn and looks at the bottles briefly. “Multiple doctors.” 

“Maybe he isn’t taking them all at once,” Finn says, trying to sound more hopeful than he feels. “He could have started one, decided it didn’t work for him, and then asked to switch to something else.”

“Then why the different practices?” Puck says gently. 

“Mom and Burt should’ve just brought him home after the funeral,” Finn says. “This is so messed up, babe.”

“Burt’s always had trouble with clarity when it comes to Kurt,” Puck says with a shrug, then turns as they can hear Kurt’s bedroom door open. “We’re in the kitchen.” 

“You two haven’t seen the new market three blocks over!” Kurt says before he even reaches the kitchen, sounding extremely chipper. Finn and Puck exchange a look that Finn is pretty sure effectively captures the spirit of ‘what the fuck?’ they’re both feeling.

“Like a grocery store market?” Finn asks. 

“They have everything divided into Local and International,” Kurt says as he stops in the doorway. He looks a little manic, with too much of the white part of his eyes showing around the iris and dilated pupils. Finn glances over at Puck again. Puck turns towards the cabinets enough to conceal his wince from Kurt, then turns back around. 

“Not just produce?” Puck asks, and Kurt shakes his head. “I guess we could head down to it, if you want to lead us all there.” 

“We can stock up on some stuff Puck and I can cook with,” Finn says. “That wouldn’t be so bad, right? Home-cooked meal, midwestern style?”

“Sounds great!” Kurt says. “Let me just get some sandals on.” 

As Kurt walks towards the door, Puck turns to Finn with his mouth partially open. “Well, that’s something,” he says very quietly. 

“Yeah, but I don’t think it’s something good,” Finn says, his voice equally low. “I think this is going to be rougher than we thought.”


	3. Chapter 3

The market turns out to be more exhausting than Finn anticipated, as Kurt leads them on a whirlwind tour of the whole thing, talking rapidly the whole time. They’re able to purchase a reasonable amount of what Finn feels are overpriced groceries before returning to Kurt’s apartment, at least, and as soon as they’re back, Kurt pours himself a large glass of wine and disappears back into his bedroom again.

“That… probably isn’t a great idea,” Puck says, nodding at the bottle of wine still on the counter. “Not on top of whatever brought him _way_ up.” 

“You want some?” Finn asks, picking up the bottle and wiggling it back and forth. “After all that shopping, I could just about take the bottle back to the bedroom with me.”

“We could order a pizza first, because I don’t think we’ll convince Kurt that’s what we should have for lunch tomorrow,” Puck says. “Wine and pizza’s a good combination, right?” 

“Yes, pizza. I know I said I’d cook, but I didn’t know we’d be at that market for almost four hours,” Finn says. 

Puck shudders. “Right? Every time we visit Kurt, I remember why we don’t live in New York.” 

“Because we saw fifteen varieties of heirloom carrots?”

“Because there were fifteen varieties of heirloom carrots to _be_ seen!” 

“God save us from the carrots,” Finn says. “I’m going to see what Kurt will eat on a pizza.”

“I’ll find that place we ordered from last time,” Puck says, holding up his phone. 

Finn walks back to Kurt’s bedroom and taps on the door. “Hey Kurt? We’re ordering pizza. You have a preference?”

“Oh, I’m not that hungry!” Kurt calls back a second later. “Just save me a piece or two of veggie!” 

“You should probably eat. It’s getting late,” Finn says. 

“Let me know when it’s here,” Kurt says. 

Finn sighs. “Okay, I’ll do that,” he says. He walks back to the kitchen. “He says he isn’t very hungry, and he wants veggie.”

“We can get him a personal-size veggie, then,” Puck says, tapping something else on his phone. “Maybe he’ll eat it once it gets here and he can smell it.” 

“Or maybe he’ll drink, take pills, and pass out,” Finn says. 

“Also possible,” Puck concedes as he puts his phone down. “We just keep acting like we expect him to eat, and maybe he will.” 

“Maybe,” Finn says. He takes Puck by the hand and pulls him into the living room. Every table in the room seems to have empty wine bottles and glasses. Finn and Puck sit on the sofa, Finn’s arm around Puck’s shoulders. 

“We’ll call someone to come in tomorrow,” Puck says quietly. “I think it would have been better for Burt to take him to Lima, but we’re here now.” 

“We’re _so_ not qualified for this, babe.”

Puck winces. “Yeah. I know.” 

“Should we call any of the doctors on those prescriptions, do you think?” Finn asks. “I know they can’t tell us anything, but we could let them know how many different pills he’s taking.”

“And find out what kind of doctor they each are. Make sure he goes to see _one_ of them in the next week or so.” 

“We should make sure he’s seeing someone for some actual counseling, too,” Finn says. 

“Probably not, or he’s lying to them about the pills,” Puck reasons. “Whichever one of those docs is a psychiatrist can probably give a recommendation.” 

“We’ll get this taken care of, and then we can go home,” Finn says. “It’ll go quicker than we think, I bet.”

“Okay,” Puck says, kissing Finn. “That’s what we’ll work towards, babe.” 

They sit quietly on the sofa until the pizza arrives. After they tip the delivery girl, Finn calls out, “Kurt, dinner!”

“I’m still not hungry! You can put a slice in the refrigerator for me,” Kurt replies. 

“Just one slice?”

“I don’t need that much!” 

“You sure you don’t want to come out and eat some now?” Finn asks. 

“I’m fine, Finn, I promise!” Kurt says.

“Okay,” Finn says, frowning as he puts pizza on plates for himself and Puck. He hands Puck his plate. 

“Give him five or ten minutes,” Puck says. Finn nods and eats his pizza, not really able to shake the worry enough to enjoy it. 

After ten minutes, Finn sets his plate on the table and walks back to Kurt’s bedroom to check on him. He taps on the door quietly. Kurt doesn’t answer. Finn taps a little louder, but Kurt still doesn’t respond. Finally, Finn tries the knob. The door isn’t locked, so Finn lets it slowly swing open. Kurt is on the bed, arms and legs splayed like he passed out where he landed. A prescription pill bottle and a half-empty bottle of rum are on the nightstand next to the bed. 

Finn panics momentarily, rushing to the bed to check Kurt’s breathing and pulse. Both are steady, if a little slow, and Finn realizes Kurt really did pass out, most likely from the amount he had to drink, based on the alcohol smell on his breath. All Finn can do is remove Kurt’s shoes, roll him onto his side, and tuck a blanket around him, bringing the pill bottle and the rum bottle back to the kitchen with him after closing Kurt’s bedroom door quietly behind him.

“Kurt won’t be joining us for pizza,” Finn says, holding up the bottles for Puck to see. 

Puck sighs. “We should remove either the pills or the booze.”

“Or both,” Finn says. “But right now? I’m fixing both of us a drink.”

“Good idea.” 

Finn pours them each a drink and brings the glasses into the living room, sitting down on the sofa again. Puck puts his hand on Finn’s leg and leans against him. 

“We always can call Burt if we need to,” Puck says quietly. 

“Burt can’t handle this,” Finn says. “Burt would fall apart if he saw Kurt like that.”

“Okay, well, we could call Carole.” Puck pauses. “Or _my_ mom. She could Jewish-mom-guilt him.” 

“We have to help him. I don’t think anybody else is going to be able to do it,” Finn says. 

“Or help him get help, really.” 

“Either way, if we get my parents out here, they’re just going to make it worse. He needs somebody to help him get his shit together, not somebody who’s going to sit here and cry over him,” Finn says. 

“Who was that woman that was on TV when we were younger? He needs that British nanny woman,” Puck says jokingly. 

“Yeah, but I think we’ll have to Supernanny him ourselves.” Finn sighs and pulls Puck closer. “Thank you for not letting me come out here alone.”

“Like I would have done otherwise,” Puck says. “If the time off had been a problem, we would have just bundled him off to Milwaukee somehow.” 

Finn gives Puck a long, lingering kiss. “Either way, I’m lucky to have you,” he says. 

“Ditto,” Puck says, “but we can’t fool around on your brother’s sofa.” 

“Then we’ll go fool around in his guest room,” Finn says. He leaves his glass on the coffee table and stands up, pulling Puck to his feet, too, before leading him towards the guest bedroom. 

The next morning, Finn and Puck wake up about when they would have at home. Kurt’s room is still completely silent. Finn calls the first doctor from the prescription bottles, while Puck calls the second, and then they compare notes before they call the third doctor, the one whose name is on the bottle Finn took from Kurt’s room the previous night. Two of the three turn out to be psychiatrists, and the other a general practitioner, and Puck and Finn have had plenty of time to develop a plan of action before Kurt finally gets up at almost two in the afternoon.


	4. Chapter 4

Implementing the action plan, Finn should have realized, is not as easy as developing the action plan. When Kurt finally emerges from his bedroom in the early afternoon, they don’t want to immediately confront him about his pill cocktail roulette, so Finn and Puck keep giving each other uncomfortable meaningful glances over Kurt’s head as he drinks a cup of coffee and eats a fat-free lite yogurt and some weird-looking crackers. After disposing of his yogurt cup, Kurt reaches for the pill drawer. Finn clears his throat loudly.

“We should have gotten you lozenges, Finn,” Kurt says, his hand still moving. 

“Yeah, well,” Finn says, looking at Puck again, “maybe you should sit down for a minute. We need to talk to you about some stuff.”

Kurt looks like he’s trying hard to appear confused, frowning as he walks to sofa and sits on the edge of it. He looks towards the kitchen and the pill drawer again, almost wistfully. “Yes?” 

“I— _we_ are concerned about some of the stuff we’ve seen since we’ve been here,” Finn says, reaching for Puck’s hand as they sit together on the loveseat catty-corner to the sofa. Puck wraps his fingers around Finn’s and squeezes almost imperceptibly. 

“I know I haven’t been keeping up with the cleaning,” Kurt says stiffly. “That’s not really your place to criticize, though, especially seeing as you did not technically ask before arriving.” 

“That’s not what we’re talking about, Kurt. We’re _worried_ about you,” Finn says. “We saw all the different pills you’re taking, and I know you’re drinking with them. I’m worried.”

“Those are all prescribed for me by a doctor!” 

“Several doctors, actually. And we talked to them. None of them knew you were seeing other doctors about the same thing,” Finn says. 

“You had _no right_ to do that,” Kurt says, his lips pressed together. 

“Yeah, I did, actually,” Finn says. “I have the right as somebody who loves you and doesn’t want you to get hurt.”

“It makes perfect sense that I would need some help after… what happened,” Kurt says. 

“Hey, yeah, of course it does,” Finn says, reaching towards the sofa to put a comforting hand on Kurt’s knee. Kurt jerks away, and Finn sighs, looking at Puck for some backup. 

“Kurt. Dude,” Puck says. “You can need some support, even pharmaceutical support, and still be in too deep.” 

“And the way you’re mixing meds and alcohol can’t be helping your mental state. It’s just making things worse,” Finn says. “Please think about what we’re saying. You’ll see that we’re right.”

“Oh, _you’re_ right?” Kurt says snidely. “When did either of you get degrees in psychiatry?” 

“I don’t need a psych degree to see that you’re not doing well,” Finn says, keeping his voice as gentle as he can.

“Of course I’m not doing well, but this isn’t anything abnormal!” Kurt says loudly. 

Finn sighs. “Taking pills with booze and passing out in your bed isn’t normal. It’s not healthy. It’s not _safe_ , Kurt.”

“I don’t pass out in bed. I fell asleep.” 

“Fell asleep so hard I had to turn you on your side to make sure you wouldn’t choke,” Finn says. “Puck? Why can I say to get him to see that I’m not being judgmental, I’m just worried about him?”

Puck sighs and shakes his head. “I don’t know. I don’t know why he thinks you are,” he says, but the expression on his face suggests that he has at least a very good guess about why Kurt thinks they’re judging him. 

“I didn’t ask you to turn me on my side! I didn’t ask you to come out here!” 

“So we’re supposed to just let you sit out here alone in New York and overdose?” Finn asks. 

“How dare you!” Kurt says, scowling at Finn. “Implying I’m some kind of… charity case!” 

“It’s not charity! I’m your brother, and I love you!”

“You feel obligated.” Kurt almost sneers at Finn and Puck. “You’re out here so you can tell your mother that you tried, but that I’m beyond help, or that you tried, but this is a situation that needs something else, so you can get back to your banal, prosaic Midwestern lives!” 

Finn flinches involuntarily, like he’s been slapped. “We planned our whole summer around this,” he says softly. “We put everything on hold to come out here and help you, so you wouldn’t have to be alone with this.”

“Yes, I’m sure you’ll be telling all your boring friends about how much you sacrificed!” 

“Hey,” Puck says. “Stop it, Kurt. I don’t think you’re _actually_ mad at Finn, but you can’t treat your brother like that.” He squeezes Finn’s hand again, glancing at him sympathetically. 

“How dare you! Either of you!” Kurt says, yelling now. He stands up and glares, then marches towards his room, thankfully without a detour toward the drawer of pills. A moment later, his door slams shut. 

Puck sighs heavily and rubs his free hand over his face. “Sorry. I didn’t think he’d do that.” 

“I guess I kind of did,” Finn says sadly. 

“At least he didn’t get any more pills?” Puck says. “I mean it, though. He can’t talk to us like that over and over.” 

“I know he’s in a lot of pain. I can’t blame him for being angry. Maybe he’ll cool off a little and we can try this again,” Finn says. 

“I know he’s angry, too, but this is going beyond angry,” Puck says, shaking his head. “He’s _attacking_ you, and you and I both know that it’s not necessarily that he wouldn’t think this stuff normally, just that he wouldn’t say it.” 

“If something happened to you, though? I mean, God forbid, but I don’t know that I’d be any better off than he is right now,” Finn says. “I think this just proves we were right to fly out here.”

“You wouldn’t be mean,” Puck says, shifting a little closer to Finn and then kissing him. “I know that. This is a lot of different layers. And I think he assumes we’re judging him because he knows he’d be judging either of us.” 

“But we’re not! _I’m_ not!”

“Yeah, I know that, and you know that, but he’s projecting or whatever it’s called,” Puck says. “Remember that Jeopardy question about it?” 

“Yeah, I remember. We always do so great at Jeopardy when we’re watching at home,” Finn says. “I’m just so goddamn sad for him, Puck. I can’t imagine what he’s feeling right now. I know how I would feel.”

“Don’t think about it,” Puck says. “Really. You don’t have to worry about that.”

“I have to worry about that. When I think about how _I_ would feel, it’s like getting punched in the gut, and that’s what he’s feeling right now,” Finn says. 

“But babe, there’s a lot of differences between the two of you, and how you’d react is one of them.”

“The fact is that we don’t know how I’d react, and I’m grateful for that,” Finn says. “I just need him to see that he’s not alone with this. If he has to lash out at somebody, that’s what I’m here for. Better me than taking it out on himself.”

“I don’t know. I don’t think either option is good. Because right now, there’s no limit on what he can do or say to you,” Puck says. “You know you’d be saying the same things I am if he was lashing out at me instead of you.” 

Finn gives Puck a half-smile. “Well, yeah, because it would be _you_ , not _me_.”

“Yeah, so, see?” Puck says. “I don’t want him to get in the habit of this.” 

“If he keeps on like this, we’ll put the brakes on it, okay?” Finn says. “Maybe if I talk to him alone, instead of us confronting him together like that.”

“Maybe,” Puck says doubtfully.

“I have to try. I can’t stand seeing him like this, and I know you don’t want him talking to me like that, but I can put up with it for a little while if I think I’m maybe getting through to him,” Finn says. He puts his arm around Puck and pulls him close to kiss him. Puck doesn’t move away for a long time, continuing to kiss Finn. 

“Okay,” Puck says when he finally pulls back. “But I don’t have to hear it, right?” 

“Of course not. Why don’t you go for a walk, get a cup of coffee or something?”

“You want anything? I can bring a cup back,” Puck offers as he stands. 

“I think I’m going to put some on for myself and Kurt, see if I can lure him out with the promise of coffee,” Finn says. 

“Good luck. Message me if you need me, okay?” 

“I will. I love you, babe. Thank you for being here.”

“Hey, where you go, I go, and all of that,” Puck says. “Love you too.”


	5. Chapter 5

Finn waits until a few minutes after Puck leaves to start the coffee. Once it’s brewing, he walks through the apartment to Kurt’s bedroom door. He stands outside it, listening for any sign of Kurt’s activities, before lightly tapping on the door with one knuckle.

“Kurt?” Finn says quietly. “I’m making coffee. Do you want some?”

Kurt doesn’t immediately respond, then there’s a shuffling noise that gets closer to the door. “Coffee?” Kurt’s voice finally says. 

“Yeah. You know, ground up beans, hot water, pour it in a cup,” Finn says. 

There’s another pause, and then the door unlocks and Kurt opens the door partway. “I suppose I could have a cup.” 

“I used the Arokara. Am I saying that right?”

“Close enough,” Kurt says. 

“It smelled good,” Finn says. “I’m not super picky about my coffee, but I thought you might be, and that smelled the nicest of the ones you had in your cabinet.”

Kurt nods, but he doesn’t look entirely upset. “That’s fine.” 

“Did I ever tell you how long it took me to start liking coffee?” Finn asks, stepping away from the door so Kurt has a clear path out of his bedroom.

“No?” Kurt says as he walks towards the kitchen. 

“It was a two-year project. I started with mostly milk and sugar and gradually worked my way up to actual coffee.”

“Two full years?” 

“Probably closer to twenty-two months, but yeah, almost two years,” Finn says. “I had to build up my tolerance, like with iocaine powder.”

“Was it worth it?” Kurt asks distractedly. 

“Well, I can drink coffee now,” Finn says with a shrug. “Now I’ve been drinking it for enough years that I can’t imagine not drinking it.”

“Hmm.” Kurt pours himself a mug of coffee, starting to reach for something and then wrapping his hands around the mug. “Thank you.” 

“I just wanted to let you know I’m sorry about earlier,” Finn says. 

“So you’ll let me continue using my prescribed medications without scrutiny?” 

Finn sighs. “Are you really taking _all_ of those pills?”

“If I say no, you’re going to accuse me of lying, and if I say yes, you’re going to think you’re a medical professional again,” Kurt says stiffly. 

“Kurt,” Finn says, trying to keep his tone as gentle and non-judgmental as possible, “I don’t have to be a doctor to know that mixing tranquilizers and booze is a dangerous idea, and you’ve got at least two different ones here. I’m not saying you don’t need medication, and I’m not saying which of those you _should_ be taking, but I think you know that you shouldn’t be taking all of them at the same time, with alcohol on top of it.”

“I _need_ them,” Kurt says. “I need all of it. You don’t understand. You don’t know what this is like!” 

“You’re right, I don’t. I can only imagine how horrible all of this is. If it were me, and I lost Puck, you’d probably be having to scrape me up off the floor,” Finn says. “You think I don’t see how much pain you’re in? You think I don’t think you have a right to feel that?”

“Then let me have my pills!” Kurt demands. 

“Kurt, I don’t want _you_ to die, too!” Finn says. 

“I don’t want to die,” Kurt says slowly, “but I don’t want to feel anything, either.” 

“You can’t not feel it, Kurt. You can numb it for a little while, but that’s just going to make everything harder later,” Finn says. “And if you keep taking those pills with alcohol, you’re going to be a lot more than just numb.”

“Numb is better than the alternative,” Kurt says. “Sleeping is better than being awake, right now.” 

“Is it? Or do you wake up every time still feeling just as bad as when you went to sleep?” Finn asks. He slowly moves his arm up around Kurt’s shoulders. 

“But there’s a few moments after I first wake up,” Kurt says, letting some of weight sag against Finn. 

Finn pulls Kurt against his chest, plucking the coffee mug from Kurt’s hands and setting it down on the counter so he can give Kurt a two-armed hug. “Yeah. Yeah, I know. I’m so sorry, Kurt.”

“Why can’t I live in those few moments?” Kurt asks quietly. 

“Because they don’t last, and you still have to live your life,” Finn says, keeping Kurt against his chest and hugging him. “Your life isn’t over.”

“Why is his?” Kurt whispers, making a soft sobbing noise at the end of the sentence. 

“Because he did something really, really brave, and a little bit dumb, but mostly brave,” Finn says. 

“But I want him back,” Kurt says, and this time the sobbing noise is louder. Finn hugs him even harder, resting his chin on top of Kurt’s head.

“I know,” Finn says softly. “I know you do. I’m so sorry this happened to you. I’m so, so sorry.” Kurt doesn’t reply, instead crying harder against Finn’s chest. Finn shifts his weight from foot to foot, just barely rocking Kurt side to side. “Yeah, I know, I’m sorry,” he keeps saying, voice pitched low. “I’m sorry, Kurt.”

Kurt sobs for a long time before he slows down, and he sniffles for awhile after that before taking a few long, shaky breaths. “You’ve always been here for me,” he murmurs. 

Finn rubs a circle on Kurt’s back with one hand. “That’s my job, right? I’ve got your back. I promised.”

Kurt nods a little, still taking shaky breaths, and then without any real warning, he lifts himself up on his toes and kisses Finn. Finn is too startled at first to respond, so the kiss goes on longer then it should before he pulls away, his hands on Kurt’s upper arms, moving him back so there’s an arm’s-length of space between them.

“What are you doing?” Finn asks, more confused than anything else. “Kurt, what are you _thinking_?”

“Sorry,” Kurt says, stepping back further. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He wheels around and darts back towards his room, the sound of the door closing and locking again following a moment later.

Finn stays standing exactly where he is, slowly bringing his fingertips up to his lips and touching them briefly before letting his arm drop. He looks down at his feet, then up at the kitchen, then down the hall in the direction of Kurt’s room, not sure what he’s supposed to do now. He shakes his head slightly, whispering to himself, “What the _fuck_?”


	6. Chapter 6

A half-hour later, when Puck comes back to the apartment, Finn is still standing in the same spot. Kurt’s coffee mug still sits on the counter, the coffee probably ice cold, and Finn’s cup of coffee never even got poured. The apartment door opens. Puck walks in with a paper sack from the deli down the street. 

“Finn?” Puck says, looking confused as he sets the sack on the counter. “Why… what did he say?” 

Finn shakes his head, barely moving it side to side. “I—” He exhales loudly, not sure why _he_ feels guilty about what happened. He does, though, and he feels like what he’s about to do is confess to something. “He kissed me.”

“Like on the cheek, right?” Puck asks, eyebrow raised. 

Finn shakes his head again, more slowly this time. “Not on the cheek.”

“He kissed you,” Puck says flatly. “The fuck.” 

“Yeah, that’s what I said, after he said he was sorry and ran back into his room,” Finn says. “I’ve been standing here trying to figure out what the fuck, but the fuck remains unfigured.”

“He _kissed_ you, like on the lips? So we’re clear here?” Puck asks. 

“Yeah, on the lips, like an actual kiss, the kind on the lips. He was crying, and I was hugging him, and then he kissed me on my lips, with his lips.”

Puck is silent for a long time, staring into the sack from the deli with one hand pinching the bridge of his nose. “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t walk in there and punch him right now,” he finally says. 

“I don’t think he really knew what he was doing,” Finn says. “He seemed about as shocked as I was. Am. Still really am.”

“Yeah, that’s not really a good reason in my head right now,” Puck says. 

“He’s really messed up,” Finn says, keeping his voice low. “He was talking about wanting to sleep and not feel anything. It was upsetting. He was crying pretty hard.”

“And _none_ of that is a reason to kiss you,” Puck says. “You know that. I know that. He knows that. He wasn’t all doped up, because we know he didn’t take anything.” 

“I’m not saying it’s okay! I’m just saying don’t punch him!”

“Well, what should I do? Say it’s _fine_?” Puck asks, turning around and facing Finn, hands in the air. “Because it’s not!” 

“I’m not saying that, either,” Finn hisses. 

“Then what exactly are you looking for, here?” Puck asks. 

“I don’t know, okay? I just don’t want to make things worse,” Finn says. “Shit, Puck, it’s not like I kissed him back. He fucked up. He _is_ fucked up. Don’t make it worse.”

“Me. I’m the one making it worse,” Puck says flatly. “Oh, that’s just great. I go out and get sandwiches so he’ll feel less confronted, and _I_ am the one making it worse.” 

“You’re the one looking to solve this with a fist in his face,” Finn points out.

“Which I didn’t do, and when I asked what I should do, you told me not to make it worse. Because clearly _I_ am the problem here.” 

“Will you stop? Please?” Finn asks. “Look, we’re both upset, _he’s_ upset, and I don’t think there’s anything to do about this right now. When he comes out of his room again, we can talk to him.”

“Are you sure?” Puck says, an odd tone to his voice. “I wouldn’t want to confront him.” 

“Oh, for—” Finn sighs, dropping his arms to his side as he shakes his head. 

“What did you think I was going to? Tell you good job? Christ, Finn, we came out here to help your brother, not for him to try to seduce you!” 

“Oh, fuck you,” Finn says. He still keeps his voice low. “Like you never did anything stupid when you were upset. Like you’ve always been the best rational decision-maker when you’re worked up about something.”

“Funny, as an adult, I’ve never kissed anyone else’s husband!” 

“Yeah? Well, neither have I!”

“Nah, you just stand there and let people kiss you. That’s great,” Puck says. 

Finn presses his lips together to force himself to pause and take a breath before he says anything else. “Is that what you think about me?” he asks, once he can trust himself not to say something intentionally hurtful. 

“I think that maybe you were right. That maybe this was a bad idea, us coming out here,” Puck says. “And I feel like you’re more worried about him and how I might react than, I don’t know, anything I might be feeling.” 

“I think I need to not be in the same room with you right now,” Finn says, turning and walking to the guest room, shutting the door behind himself quietly. He paces the small room, rubbing his face with his hands. “What the fuck,” he mutters to himself. “Just, what the fuck.”

He half expects Puck to follow him into the room, but after a few minutes of Finn pacing, he accepts that Puck isn’t going to do that. He sits on the edge of the bed with his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. 

“What the fuck,” he says again, because no amount of saying it is making anything any clearer. He sits alone in the room for at least fifteen, maybe twenty minutes before he hears Kurt’s bedroom door opening quietly. Puck says something very quietly and too calmly, and Kurt makes a squawking noise before responding equally quietly but far less calmly. 

The two of them keep going back and forth, increasingly louder with each exchange, until Finn can make out a few words of each sentence. 

“…not some kind of a…” Puck says, followed by quieter words before he stops talking. 

“…kind!” Kurt says, getting louder as the sentence continues. 

“Just because…” Puck voice’s says, trailing off before a louder “…else’s. Is that what you want?” 

Finn stands up and moves closer to the door to listen, because if he has to break up a physical fight, he’d rather do it sooner than later. 

“Of course not!” Kurt says. “And are you saying that the two of—” 

“No,” Puck interrupts. “You don’t get to comment on us. Or kiss us.” 

“It was an accident!” 

“One that you should have, even distressed, known was off-limits,” Puck says. “You and I both know that, even if Finn doesn’t want to admit it.” 

No one says anything on the other side of the door for at least a minute before Finn can hear Kurt sigh. “Fine,” Kurt says. “Yes. I should have known. Now may I please pass to go to the kitchen?” 

“That’s going to be a ‘no’,” Puck says. “No pills right now.” 

There’s a noise that sounds almost like Kurt stamping his foot. “Puck!” 

“No,” Puck repeats. “It’ll suck. I know. I’ll bring you some soup later.” 

“I don’t want soup!” 

“Then I’ll bring you broth.” 

“That’s the same thing!” Kurt says, sounding increasingly frustrated. 

“No, you can drink broth. Soup, you have to use a spoon. No pills, go take a real nap,” Puck says. There’s nothing else said, and no one seems to move for awhile before Finn can hear Kurt go back in his room and close the door. Another five or so minutes pass before Puck moves, the knob on the door turning silently a moment later. 

Finn takes several steps back from the door and tries to act like he wasn’t just listening in on the whole exchange. Puck stands in the doorway, mostly watching Finn with the occasional glance towards Kurt’s bedroom. 

“Are you going to come in?” Finn asks. 

“I wasn’t sure if you were ready to be in the same room as me yet,” Puck says with a little shrug. 

“Just come in,” Finn says, sitting down on the bed again with a sigh. “You two have a nice, productive talk like you wanted?”

Puck steps into the room and pushes the door almost completely shut. “I never said I wanted to talk to him, actually, and I have no idea if it was productive or not.” 

“Well, he didn’t take pills or booze back to his room, right?” Finn asks. 

“No. Not yet,” Puck says, looking over his shoulder again. 

“Then it was productive,” Finn says, patting the bed next to him while giving Puck a pointed look.

Puck sits down with a sigh. “What are we doing?” 

“Right now?” Finn says. “We’re kissing, because you’re my husband and I love you. Okay?”

“Yeah,” Puck says, nodding a few times. “Okay.” 

Finn leans in and presses his lips to Puck’s, putting his hand on the back of Puck’s head until Puck’s lips part and the kiss deepens. They don’t do this enough, just kissing to kiss, so Finn keeps his mouth on Puck’s and his hand on the back of Puck’s head, holding him there while they kiss, their tongue slowly moving and their lips sliding against each other’s. Puck has one hand resting gently on Finn’s leg, putting a little bit of his weight on it as they continue to kiss. 

After a few minutes of kissing, Finn lies back against the bed, pulling Puck on top of him. Puck laughs a little and braces himself with his arms on either side of Finn’s head. 

“What’s so funny?” Finn asks. 

“You never can _just_ kiss.” 

“Hey! All I’m doing is kissing!” Finn protests. 

“And rolling me on top of you.”

“While kissing,” Finn says. “It’s not like we’re grinding or anything.”

“Mmmhmm, sure,” Puck teases. “You’re the one that brought up grinding, not me.”

“Oh, was that me?” Finn asks, lifting his hips to grind against Puck’s leg. 

Puck laughs again and nods. “ _That_ was you.” 

“Then we’ll let it be me a little bit more, okay?”

“Yeah,” Puck says, then kisses Finn. “Okay.”


	7. Chapter 7

Later in the evening, Finn and Puck leave the guest room, both more relaxed and at least past the crisis-point of the situation with Kurt. Without having previously discussed it, they begin silently bagging Kurt’s assortment of pills and relocating them and the alcohol into the guest room, leaving only the most recently-written bottle of antidepressants—the prescription they discussed with Kurt’s current care provider—out on the guest bedroom dresser. Once the kitchen is free of booze and pills, they cook dinner, preparing a nice salad to go along with the chicken and carrots they put in the oven. 

By the time the chicken is done, Kurt still hasn’t left his bedroom. While Finn knows it’s entirely possible Kurt has more pills and alcohol in the room with him, he suspects that Kurt isn’t passed out or medicated so much as embarrassed and hiding. He raps on Kurt’s door with his knuckles.

“Kurt? Dinner.”

“I’m not really hungry,” Kurt says after a few seconds pass. 

“Dinner isn’t optional,” Finn says. “I made a chicken. You can’t not show up for my chicken.”

“An entire chicken? For three people?” 

“Exactly! If you don’t come out here and help us eat this chicken, then I made an entire chicken for _two_ people, which is just ridiculous,” Finn says. 

“Fine,” Kurt says with a huff, and the door opens after a few more moments. “I’ll help you eat the chicken.” 

“There’s a salad, too, and carrots.” Finn steps out of the way so Kurt can walk towards the front of the apartment. 

“I’m sure there’s a good wine to pair with it,” Kurt says. 

“Uh, yeah, about that,” Finn says, looking at Puck for some help. 

“No more wine,” Puck says bluntly. “There isn’t any here.” 

“Yeah,” Finn agrees. “Sorry.”

“Excuse me?” Kurt says, looking like he’s not sure if he should be confused or outraged. “You took all of the wine away?” 

“I guess you could say that,” Finn says. He gestures to the table, where Puck has put out plates and utensils. 

“I am a grown adult! I think I can determine whether or not I can have a drink!” Kurt says, his voice getting a little shrill. 

“No, you can’t,” Puck says. “Not right now. So we’re going to help you.” 

“Sit down, and I’ll slice the chicken, and we’ll all eat dinner together without anybody yelling,” Finn says. He walks into the kitchen without waiting for Kurt’s response, slicing the chicken and separating the legs and wings, then putting all the meat onto a platter. He brings that to the table with the carrots and the salad. Kurt looks sullen, but Finn uses the serving fork to put some white meat, carrots, and salad onto Kurt’s plate. 

Puck touches Finn a little more than he usually would at dinner, his hand lingering on Finn’s back as he puts water glasses on the table and then sits down. “No dessert tonight, though,” he says. 

“Not for any specific reason,” Finn says, not wanting Kurt to think he’s being punished for kissing Finn through the withholding of dessert. “I just ran out of time, ingredients, and motivation.”

“Plus people don’t really need dessert _every_ night,” Puck says. 

“I’m sure we’re fine without dessert,” Kurt says, managing a tight-lipped smile. 

“Eat,” Finn encourages him. “It’s not as good cold.” Kurt nods and picks up his fork, taking a bite of chicken. 

“Unless we make chicken salad sandwiches for lunch out of the leftovers,” Puck says. 

“Yeah, but that’s supposed to be cold. Some warm foods are okay cold, but whole roast chicken and carrots kind of isn’t that sort of food,” Finn says. They’re making conversation just to keep silence from happening and giving someone—Kurt probably, but Puck possibly—the opportunity to bring up what took place between Kurt and Finn that afternoon. Finn appreciates the effort on everyone’s part, because rehashing it at this point probably won’t help anyone, not until Kurt is in a better headspace. 

“I never understood iced coffee,” Puck says. 

“Really?” Kurt looks up. “What about it?” 

“I just expect coffee to be warm!” Puck explains. 

“Not even the drinks designed to be cold? You don’t like those?” Kurt asks, and Puck shakes his head.

“Remember what I said about how long it took for me to learn how to drink coffee?” Finn says.

“Yes?” Kurt says. 

“Cold coffee? Tooooo complicated.”

“No mid-afternoon frappucinos in the park, then,” Kurt says, then frowns a little and takes a large bite of salad. 

“I’ll stick with ice cream,” Finn says. 

“There’s supposed to be a new place opening up a few blocks from here in a week or two. Or it might be open now,” Kurt says, still frowning and looking confused. 

“Maybe we’ll all go look for it tomorrow,” Puck suggests. 

“That would be nice,” Finn says. “Get us out of the apartment and out in the good weather.”

“I suppose we could,” Kurt says almost cautiously. 

“We could all set up some new routines,” Finn continues. 

“It wouldn’t hurt to get a run in in the morning,” Puck says. “Or hit a gym.” 

“I don’t usually run, but if you’re willing to go slowly,” Kurt says.

“A walk,” Finn says. “A quick walk.”

“I’m not out of _shape_ ,” Kurt insists. “I just do Pilates and bodywork!” 

“We can do that, too,” Finn says. 

“ _Can_ we?” Puck asks skeptically. “Neither of us is _that_ flexible.” 

“We can try,” Finn says, lifting his eyebrows at Puck. Puck raises one eyebrow and looks like he’s fighting a grin. 

“I can take pictures of you trying,” Kurt says almost cheerfully. “They’ll make excellent Christmas gifts.” 

“There you go,” Finn says. “How’s the chicken?”

“It’s good,” Kurt says, and this time his smile is slightly less tight-lipped. “As is the rest of the food.” 

“Took me about a dozen tries to get the chicken right, but now I can definitely roast one,” Finn says. 

“You cooked multiple chickens this afternoon?” Kurt asks incredulously. 

Finn laughs as he shakes his head. “No, like ten years ago, and not all in one night.”

“What do you do with chicken that isn’t quite roasted correctly?” Kurt asks. 

“The neighbor’s dogs _really_ liked me,” Puck says smugly. 

“We had some undercooking issues,” Finn says, then laughs again, “ and then some overcooking issues.”

“He was a little distracted,” Puck says, leaning towards Kurt, “if you know what I mean.” Kurt covers his mouth with his hand, but a small sound that almost is a laugh escapes anyway. 

“And whose fault is that?” Finn asks. 

“Oh, I never said it wasn’t mine,” Puck says. 

“Oh, it was _definitely_ yours,” Finn says, brushing his hand over Puck’s thigh under the table. 

Puck grins. “That pizza that night tasted _really_ good.”

“Food always tastes better after hard work,” Finn says. He glances over at Kurt. He seems like he’s trying to smile, but his eyes are sad, and he’s staring past them, like there’s something there that they can’t see. He takes a bite of chicken and chews it slowly. 

“Do you like cooking, really?” Kurt asks softly after a moment. 

“I don’t make anything that fancy, but yeah, it’s nice to make something that people enjoy,” Finn says. 

“Even though you have to do it again the next day?” 

“I don’t _have_ to. I like to,” Finn says. “And I get to make something different the next day.”

“I wish I could look at it that way,” Kurt says, shrugging a little. 

“I can cook for you while I’m here. I’d be doing it for the two of us at home, anyway, and it’ll be nice to get your opinion on my cooking,” Finn says. 

Kurt waves his free hand. “Not that I don’t appreciate it, but…” He stops and shrugs again. “Strange thoughts. That’s all.” 

“What kind of strange thoughts?” Finn says. He looks quickly over at Puck before returning to Kurt. 

“Nothing overly important,” Kurt insists. “It’s fine.” 

“Might as well tell him,” Puck says. “He’ll keep asking. Or I might, too.” 

Kurt sighs. “I like to cook occasionally, but not on a daily basis. It loses the magic for me, then. I wish I’d been able to look at it differently, before. That’s all.” 

“It’s not everybody’s thing,” Finn says. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“And it’s okay to have regrets,” Puck says softly. Kurt nods once, looking back down at his plate. 

“Exactly,” Finn says. 

Kurt takes a few more bites of his food, then puts his fork down. “I think I’ll just take my evening medications and go to bed early,” he says quietly. 

“So, yeah… about that,” Finn says, squeezing Puck’s leg with one hand. “We asked your doctor, the most recent doctor, about dosage and medication mixing and all of that. Obviously he couldn’t give us any information about your specific medical history, but he _did_ tell us that mixing everything you’ve been taking can be very dangerous. He said the medication he prescribed you, in the dosage prescribed, is the best thing for you to take.”

“I see.” Kurt sniffs. “Fine. I’ll take my evening _medication_ and go to bed early.” 

“We’re here if you need to talk. You can come knock on the door any time at night if you need us,” Finn says. 

Kurt nods and stands. “Thank you. Is the bottle still where I left it?” 

“Nah, I’ll go get it,” Puck volunteers, standing up and leaving the table quickly, returning with one pill in his hand that he deposits in Kurt’s hand. “Try to sleep well, okay?” 

“Okay. Thank you,” Kurt says, taking the pill with a sip from his glass of water. 

“We’ll clean everything up, too,” Finn says. “See you in the morning, unless you need us earlier.”

Kurt nods. “Good night.” He walks towards his bedroom, and the door clicks closed a moment later. 

“So that went pretty well,” Finn says, feeling a little hopeful for the first time since they got there. 

“Have we really been interacting with Kurt before now?” Puck asks. “Or just the drugs and the wine?” 

Finn shakes his head. “Like I said, babe, he’s messed up, but I think he’s getting a little better. He just needs somebody to help him remember how to live.”

“Yeah, I hope so. He needs to know how to keep living, really, in a different way than before.” 

“Think he’ll actually let us know if he needs help?”

“Depends on the kind of help he needs. If he’s only physically in pain, probably,” Puck says.

“If he’s crying, we could just go in there, you know,” Finn says. “We could be proactive.”

“I don’t know. He probably needs to cry. And we don’t want him to think we’re too pushy,” Puck says. 

“Maybe pushy is better than… what happened earlier,” Finn says. 

“Nothing’s particularly good,” Puck says, “but maybe we play it by ear?” 

Finn nods. “I guess that’s really all we can do.”

After cleaning up dinner, Finn and Puck take a shower together and then go to bed, leaving the bedroom door slightly cracked, just in case. They fall asleep in the relative silence of New York City, but Finn thinks he’s only been asleep an hour, maybe less, when he hears Kurt crying quietly in the next room. After a short while of crying, he stops, though, and the crying is replaced by a repetitive walking noise, which Finn quickly realizes is the sound of Kurt pacing around his room. 

“Puck?” Finn whispers. “You awake? Babe?”

“Mmm, yeah?” Puck says, rolling towards Finn. “What is it?”   
“Kurt’s pacing in there. You think we need to do anything?”

“He’s not used to falling asleep naturally, remember?” Puck says. 

“Yeah.” Finn sighs quietly and then drapes his arm over Puck, pulling him close. “I love you.”

“Love you too, babe,” Puck says. “Let’s sleep.”

“Yeah. I’m sure there’s more to do tomorrow.” Finn closes his eyes and tucks Puck’s head under his chin, and he falls back to sleep that way.


	8. Chapter 8

The following morning, Kurt seems irritable and looks like he didn’t sleep much, but he does come out of his room at a time that would actually be considered morning, 10:30 instead of the 1PM or later of previous days. Finn puts a cup of coffee into Kurt’s hand and gets a grateful-sounding, if terse, “thanks” for it. Maybe, Finn hopes, they’ve turned a corner with Kurt. Maybe Kurt’s ready to let them help him. 

The rest of that day, and the following two days, revolves around Finn preparing meals, Puck organizing trips out of the apartment to get Kurt into the fresh air, and Kurt begrudgingly going along with whatever Finn and Puck plan. Kurt doesn’t mention the kiss or in any way indicate he had made a pass at Finn, though Finn suspects that Kurt’s compliance with their outings and medication regulation might be partially motivated by the kiss and the subsequent argument with Puck. 

None of the pill bottles they moved into their room has been disturbed. Kurt hasn’t asked for any medications outside the one his current care provider prescribed, and Finn hasn’t seen any signs of Kurt drinking, either. Kurt’s appetite isn’t huge, but he makes an attempt to eat whatever Finn cooks. Four days after Kurt kissed Finn, they all have to return to the market to restock the kitchen, which Finn takes as a good sign. 

Kurt looks mildly interested in some of the produce they pass. Finn purchases anything Kurt seems interested in. Puck insists they go down every single aisle, because he doesn’t know the layout of the market and thinks they might miss something they’d otherwise get. They end up with six tote bags full of food, each of them holding a bag in each hand. 

“I hope we can eat all of this,” Finn says, as they’re carrying their market haul back to Kurt’s apartment. 

“If we’re not getting takeout, we should be able to,” Puck says. “Unless you were going to go on a hunger strike.” 

“Have I ever, in our entire lives, seemed like somebody who was in danger of going on a hunger strike?” Finn asks. 

“There _was_ the time you didn’t eat a perfectly good grilled cheese sandwich,” Puck says, and Kurt looks like he almost laughs, turning his face into his shoulder briefly. 

“That wasn’t a hunger strike,” Finn insists. “That was for religious reasons. Really screwed-up, misguided religious reasons, but still, not a hunger strike. Doesn’t count.”

“Okay, no fasting, then, either,” Puck says. 

“Again, never been an issue for me,” Finn says. “And you’re kind of the last guy who gets to say anything about that, Mister Selectively Jewish.”

“Selectively?” Kurt asks. 

“Yeah, every couple of years, he decides he’s failing his people and fasts for Yom Kippur,” Finn says. 

“How long is that?” Kurt says, frowning. 

“It’s just a day,” Puck says. “And I never make him throw out bread for Passover.” 

“Untrue,” Finn counters. 

“What?” Puck says. “I don’t!” 

“The year Nana had her stroke, you got really devout for, what, like eight months?” Finn says. “We had to unleaven the kitchen for Passover, and you even bought that new yarmulke that I don’t think you ever wore again after those eight months.”

“That doesn’t count. I don’t _routinely_ do it.” 

Kurt smiles briefly and then sighs, looking ahead to the next corner. “It’s good you can laugh about it now,” he says. 

“That’s the great part about being married to Puck, always having something to laugh about,” Finn says. “Isn’t that right, babe?”

Puck squints as he glances at Finn. “I feel like that’s a trick question, to be honest.” 

“Uh-oh. Am I going to trick you into admitting you make me laugh all the time? What’s Kurt going to think about that!” Finn says, putting one hand to his chest in fake-shock. 

“He might think I’m laughable,” Puck says solemnly. “Well, Kurt? Funny or laughable?” 

Kurt looks like he’s startled by the question, but he recovers and responds quickly. “Oh, funny, I’m sure.” 

“See? Kurt’s backing me up,” Finn says. “You always make me laugh, because you’re funny, and also because you make me happy, and I laugh when I’m happy.”

“I’m very sorry to have doubted your motives,” Puck says grandiosely, clearly fighting a smile at the same time. 

“You should laugh as much as possible,” Kurt says. “It’s a proven mental-health booster.” 

“That’s why I’m so well-adjusted,” Finn says, grinning in Puck’s direction.

“Oh, is that why?” Puck asks. “I thought it was our wholesome Midwestern lifestyle!” 

“It’s all that meatloaf,” Finn says. 

“You weren’t planning on cooking meatloaf, were you?” Kurt asks, eyeing the totebags in his hands. 

“I could be talked into cooking meatloaf if that’s something people would like to eat,” Finn says. “I make a really good meatloaf.”

“You want to hear about the first time he made meatloaf?” Puck asks Kurt conspiratorially. 

Kurt looks over at Finn. “Do I?” 

“I guess you might if you like stories involving fire trucks,” Finn says. 

“Thank god it took the peas out with it,” Puck says, sounding almost reverent. 

“Not a fan of peas?” Kurt asks. 

“He never has been,” Finn says. “I can’t think of a single situation where he’s ever been willing to eat peas.”

“Not even when I was a baby,” Puck says. 

“At least I know one thing we didn’t purchase at the market, then,” Kurt says. 

“Yeah, pretty sure Puck would eat bean sprouts before he voluntarily eats peas,” Finn says. 

“You can probably hide bean sprouts in a smoothie or something,” Puck agrees. 

Kurt manages a real smile. “There’s a smoothie place a few blocks in the other direction. You could take some bean sprouts in and ask them to try!” 

“Yeah, I could, but you’ve only got the one guest room, and I need a place to sleep tonight,” Finn says. “And I think as soon as he actually tastes bean sprout in his smoothie, I’m couch surfing.”

“I would… totally make you start the night on a couch,” Puck says. “But I’d also probably sleep through you sneaking back into bed.” 

“I don’t think today’s the day we’re testing that,” Finn says. 

“Luckily for all of us,” Kurt says. “So what _is_ on the menu for this evening?” 

“Gruyere and asparagus quiche and summer squash casserole,” Finn says. “ _Not_ the kind with the Ritz crackers on it. This one came from Food Network.”

“I like quiche,” Puck says. “But don’t sneak bean sprouts or peas into it, either.” 

“Have I ever?”

“Like your mom says, there’s a first time for everything,” Puck says dryly. “Kurt might bribe you or something.” 

“Oh, I wouldn’t bribe him,” Kurt says innocently. 

“No?” Finn says. “You’d just sneak it in on your own?”

“Or blackmail.” 

“He _does_ have a history of blackmailing you,” Puck says. “Me, on the other hand? Unsullied.” 

“Maybe I’ll just make myself a quiche and the two of you can order take-out,” Finn says. 

“Aww, we’ll make it up to you when we compliment the quiche,” Puck says. “Right, Kurt?” Kurt nods, smiling again. 

“You’d better,” Finn grumbles to himself. “Slaving over a handmade pie crust, and everybody’s got to be a comedian.”

“I thought you appreciated his humor?” Kurt quips. 

“That’s why I’ll be slaving over that pie crust,” Finn says. 

Puck grins. “My hero.” 

The rest of the afternoon is pleasant, right up until dinner, when they all take a seat at the table to eat Finn’s quiche and squash. Kurt and Puck had been in and out of the kitchen while Finn was cooking, so Finn hadn’t noticed anything off, but Puck is already frowning when he sits down. He keeps glancing at Kurt, then at Finn, then at Kurt again before staring at his plate. Inevitably, the cycle of looks starts again after a minute or two. Kurt is jumpier than he’s been in days, staring at his plate and answering any questions Finn asks in monosyllables, even when they aren’t really yes or no type questions. 

“Is the squash too bitter?” Finn finally asks. 

“The squash is fine, babe,” Puck says, but he sounds distracted. 

Finn frowns. “Was the quiche underdone or something?”

“It’s lovely,” Kurt says rotely. 

“Well, then if it isn’t the food, what’s wrong?” Finn asks. “Both of you look like I snuck peas into the food.”

Puck sighs and looks at Finn, then at Kurt, breaking his earlier pattern by looking back to Finn. “We might as well clear the air,” he says, almost to himself. “Kurt did it again.” 

“Did what?” Finn asks, looking at Kurt. Kurt doesn’t meet his eyes and stares down at his plate, not moving. After a few beats, it hits Finn exactly what Puck means, and he sets his fork down a little more forcefully than would be considered polite. “While I was cooking? You’re kidding me,” Finn says. He’s surprised he sounds as calm and neutral as he does. “You have got to be _fucking_ kidding me.”

“I wish I were,” Puck says. “Out of nowhere. I don’t get it, Kurt, is it like if anyone’s kind to you at all, you can’t help yourself?” Kurt flushes but doesn’t look up or answer. 

“What am I supposed to say to this?” Finn asks, looking at Kurt, who still doesn’t make eye contact.

“Well, you told me not to make it worse, which might’ve been right in retrospect, but now we’re in some kind of ‘pattern of behavior’ territory, so I don’t know,” Puck says. 

“Kurt?” Finn says. He doesn’t think he sounds harsh, just as confused and concerned as he feels. “Can you tell us _why_? What are you _thinking_ with this?”

Kurt swallows. He doesn’t leave the table or look up, seemingly frozen other than swallowing. Puck shrugs and looks at Finn. “He didn’t really say anything afterwards, either.” 

“Are you trying to deliberately sabotage our staying here?” Finn asks, struggling to keep his voice gentle. Kurt shrugs, then shakes his head no. Finn looks at Puck instead. 

“Maybe we’re stand-ins,” Puck says. “Which wouldn’t make it okay, but understandable.” 

Kurt shakes his head. “I just wanted to know—” he breaks off and stands up. “I’ll see you both in the morning.” 

“Kurt,” Finn says, but Kurt shakes his head again and leaves the room, the click of his bedroom door shutting following a moment later. Finn glances back at Puck. “What do we do?”

“It’s been long enough since he was on anything, I think we have to talk through it,” Puck says. “We can wait until the morning, but damn, you know, it’s almost like he was punishing himself. We had a good day, right up until that moment.” 

“Well, I spent a half-hour making this damn quiche, so I’m going to finish eating,” Finn says.

“Babe,” Puck says softly, putting his hand over Finn’s left. “I know.” 

“Yeah, but what do we do about it?” 

“Eat our quiche. Watch that show we were going to watch at nine. Go to bed afterwards, together. And tackle everything else in the morning.”


	9. Chapter 9

Nothing feels particularly clearer in the morning. Kurt’s door remains closed and probably locked. Finn puts on a pot of coffee, and he and Puck both pick at some muffins they had bought at the market the previous day. When the coffee is ready, Finn pours two cups and sets one in front of Puck on the coffee table in Kurt’s living room.

“So what are we doing about it?” Finn asks, since somebody has to start the conversation, even if neither of them really wants to have it. 

“We can’t up and leave. We can’t really refrain of being within arms’ reach of him, either,” Puck says. “Which rules out the two simplest solutions. I’d say just set clear boundaries with him, but you know, those _should_ already be obvious.” 

“I think I understand _why_ he’s doing it,” Finn says, “but I don’t know how to fix the issue there so he doesn’t feel like it’s something he needs to do.”

“What do you think it is?” 

“Well, look at us,” Finn says. “We’re happy. We’re stable. We’ve clearly got our shit together. We love each other. We’re both still alive and healthy. The only one of those things Kurt’s actually managing for himself right now is ‘alive’. If you were that shaky, you might latch on to the closest solid, positive thing you could reach, too.”

“Okay, good, neither one of us thinks he’s trying to be malicious and make _us_ unhappy or anything,” Puck says. “I mean, I didn’t think he was, but it’s good neither of us does. That makes it a little easier.” 

“Yeah, I don’t think he wants to hurt us or break us up. I think he wants to be part of it,” Finn says, frowning and furrowing his brow as he thinks about how low Kurt must feel to keep trying to latch on to the two of them as his flotation device. They’ve been brothers—or, in Puck’s case, brothers-in-law—for so long now, with a firmly-established way of interacting with each other, that the sudden change in dynamics has to be rooted in pain and loneliness rather than some latent sexual attraction Kurt has been harboring. 

“We are pretty awesome,” Puck says, drinking some of his coffee. “Maybe he needs to… I don’t know. Do something he enjoys that, you know, doesn’t also remind him of Blaine. Though I don’t know what that’d be.” 

“Theatre and fashion are probably out,” Finn says. 

“What’d he do back before he met Blaine? Wasn’t there some kind of French thing?” 

Finn shrugs as he sips his coffee. “He took French classes, but other than that? Mostly theatre and fashion. He always had all those magazines all over the place.”

“Yeah, I guess singing and dancing are out, too,” Puck says. “I’d say we should make an effort to spend less time as the two of us plus him, but I don’t think it’d really change anything, especially if the alternative is just one of us and him.” 

“He doesn’t try to make a pass at us when we’re together, so that’s something,” Finn says. 

“I mean, some people are into that,” Puck says. “At least if it was that way, we’d know immediately.” 

Finn takes another drink from his coffee cup as he mulls that over in his head. “Yeah, I think he’s going about it the wrong way,” he finally says, keeping his tone light so Puck knows he isn’t serious, or at least, _too_ serious. “If we were going to hook up with somebody else, I’d only do it as a couple, personally. I’m not interested in anybody but you, especially _without_ you.”

“I mean, he’s not bad-looking. Aged better than I would have thought,” Puck says.

“Not as good as you,” Finn says. “But yeah, he’s attractive, objectively-speaking.”

“Do you think—I don’t know, maybe I’m crazy,” Puck says. “But what if we told him what we just said, like… none of this when one of us is alone with him. He has to own it.” 

“Do I think what?” Finn prompts. 

“I mean, if he had to make a pass at us in front of each other, he’d probably stop, right?” 

“Maybe,” Finn says. “And if he doesn’t stop?”

“Yeah, that’d be the gamble, wouldn’t it?” Puck says. 

“It would sound like we’d be willing to go along with it, as long as both of us were there,” Finn says. 

“Yeah, and if that’s what he’s interested in, then he wouldn’t stop, maybe.” 

Finn can feel his eyebrows rising up to his hairline. “Are you saying you _would_ be willing?”

“I don’t know! I’m saying it’d be a really, you know, gentle way to handle it, but we’d have to be okay with that possibility.” 

“So we handle it by saying, sure, as long as it’s both of us?” Finn says. He shakes his head. “I can’t believe we’re even discussing this. This is crazy.”

“Well, yeah, the whole situation’s crazy. And I didn’t say it was the best idea, just the nicest.” Puck drinks the rest of his coffee and sets down the empty mug before leaning back. “I mean, pointing out in a different way that we’re married might do the trick.” 

“We could just arrange for him to walk in on us. That might shock him so much he’s afraid to try something.”

“So you want me to start getting undressed right now?” Puck asks, grinning a little. 

Finn sets his mostly-empty coffee cup down on the coffee table. “That would be one way to do it,” he says with a small shrug. “It’s either going to drive something home, stir something up, or traumatize somebody.”

“Maybe all of the above, depending on who we’re talking about,” Puck says wryly. “I’m not objecting to a little morning exercise, though.” 

Finn laughs and grabs the front of Puck’s shirt, pulling him forward so they can kiss. Puck immediately puts one hand on the back of Finn’s head and the other on Finn’s back, just underneath his shirt. Finn pushes Puck down onto his back against the sofa. Puck kisses Finn a little harder, his hand pressing more firmly on Finn’s back. 

After a little more kissing, Finn lifts his head, laughing. “Are we really doing this?”

Puck kisses the bottom of Finn’s chin repeatedly, nodding between kisses. “You can’t kiss me like that and then stop!” 

“I just want to make sure we really thought all the repercussions through,” Finn says. “ _Really_ thought them through.”

“I don’t really know for sure what they might be,” Puck admits, “but I know that at some point by the end of the summer, we’re going back home, together, and as long as we keep that in mind, we’re probably good.” Puck shrugs a little. “Whatever happens, we know we’re solid. Even the crazy stuff.” 

“Are you saying ‘what happens in Vegas’?” Finn asks. 

Puck frowns for a second. “I guess maybe I am?” 

“We can’t be mad at each other about it,” Finn says firmly. “We talk about it, all of it, and we don’t blame each other.”

“And I guess if he does want something, we should still make sure we take time for just us.” 

Finn nods. “You and me. We’re a constant.”

“Yeah, we are,” Puck says, running his hand through Finn’s hair. 

Finn kisses Puck, then lifts his head again. “It… could be a little fun, though,” he says. “And it might help him.”

Puck laughs for a few seconds. “Yeah, it could,” he agrees.


	10. Chapter 10

Kurt doesn’t actually interrupt them screwing on the sofa. Finn thinks he hears Kurt’s bedroom door open and shut, but Kurt never appears in the living room, so if he watches, he does it quietly. Puck and Finn walk a few blocks down to pick up Thai for lunch. Puck knocks on Kurt’s door when they get back, and Kurt does join them briefly to eat before disappearing into his room again. Finn looks at Puck over a carton of pad thai and raises his eyebrows. 

“Maybe we should buy him a novel,” Puck says with a shrug. 

“Maybe we should buy him a magazine,” Finn says. 

“A literary care package?” 

“I was thinking porn.”

“High-brow, big-words porn, then,” Puck says. 

Finn laughs and sticks his fork into the pad thai, twirling it. “Is that a thing? Do porn mags come in a high-brow variety?”

“Probably? There’s every other kind of porn out there,” Puck points out. 

“High-brow porn doesn’t sound very fun,” Finn says. “To look at or participate in.”

“It sounds like there’d be a high chance of hot tea getting spilled in uncomfortable places.” 

“Ouch!” Finn winces. 

“We’ll just stick with regular porn, I guess.” 

They spend the rest of the afternoon puttering around Kurt’s apartment, doing some cleaning and organizing of the space. As it gets later, however, Finn and Puck exchange a few glances with each other, then in the direction of Kurt’s door, until Puck walks over and knocks lightly. 

“Kurt?” Puck says. “Come on out. We’re just doing fix your own salad for dinner.” 

“Tell him it’s not optional,” Finn says. 

“The salad is not optional,” Puck says in an artificially deep voice. “Your presence isn’t either,” he adds in his normal tone. There’s no answer for at least ten seconds, then Kurt’s door opens, and Kurt walks out, looking somewhat resigned. 

“What’s on the salad,” Kurt says disinterestedly. 

“Hey, come here for a second,” Finn says, gesturing towards the living room and then pointing at the sofa. Kurt walks over and sits down, raising one eyebrow questioningly. Once Kurt sits, Finn sits next to him, with Puck on Kurt’s opposite side. Finn looks across Kurt to Puck, tilting his head a little to indicate Puck should talk first. 

“We have a new… not a _rule_ , exactly, but stronger than a request,” Puck says. Kurt nods, his eyes a little wild and wide. “We need you to not make passes at us when one of us is alone with you.” 

“I assumed that was your preference, yes,” Kurt says stiffly. 

“No, listen, _when it’s just one of us_ ,” Puck says slowly. 

Finn nods his agreement. “Do you understand what we’re saying?” he asks Kurt. 

“I understand what it _sounds_ like you’re saying?” Kurt says. “Surely I’m misunderstanding, though.” 

“No,” Puck says, shaking his head. “You’re not.” 

“We’re not saying you have to. We’re not saying you should. We’re just saying that if you’re going to, it’s both of us,” Finn says. “Me and Puck, we’re a set. That’s not up for negotiation.”

Kurt takes a sharp breath, freezing in place for a few seconds. “I didn’t—that’s—”

“It’s the solution we decided on,” Puck says. 

“You don’t have to,” Finn says. “But no more kissing one of us when you’re alone with us. It’s both or nothing.”

Kurt looks like he’s still considering whether or not he’s in an odd dream, when Puck claps his hands on his legs. “Okay, salad?” 

“We have that goat cheese from the market,” Finn says, standing and offering Kurt a hand up. 

“I—what?” Kurt says, but he takes Finn’s hand and stands. 

“For your salad,” Finn says. “And the figs.”

“That’s it?” Kurt says. “We’re just going to talk about salad now?” 

“There’s angel food cake for dessert,” Puck offers. 

“I can make whipped cream to go on it with those strawberries,” Finn says. They steer Kurt towards the kitchen. “You’ve got vanilla extract, right?”

“Yes,” Kurt says. “To the left of the oven.” 

“Come on. Your salad’s not going to make itself,” Finn says, giving Kurt a gentle push in the direction of the fridge. Finn makes eye contact with Puck behinds Kurt’s back and smiles. Puck returns the smile and tilts his head in Kurt’s direction, then shrugs a little. 

“Okay?” he mouths. 

Finn barely nods, mouthing, “You?” Puck nods, holding the refrigerator door open as Kurt reaches into it. 

“You said there were figs?” Kurt asks with his head still leaning in. 

“I think they’re already on the counter,” Finn says.

“Oh.” Kurt straightens and backs up, bumping into Finn and then jumping. Puck points to the figs on the counter. “Oh, yes, um,” Kurt says, side-stepping past them both. 

Puck leans on the refrigerator door and raises his eyebrows at Finn while smiling. Finn winks at Puck. Puck looks like he’s holding back a laugh as he shuts the door and crosses to the counter beside Kurt. He bumps into Kurt in a way that looks completely accidental but probably isn’t accidental at all, quickly stepping back. “Oh, sorry!” 

After days of awkwardness and occasionally flaring tempers, now Finn and Puck are just having fun with Kurt and with each other. Almost as soon as Puck steps away from Kurt, Finn steps in front of him, so as Kurt turns with his figs, he runs face-first into Finn’s chest.

“You okay there, Kurt?” Finn asks. 

Kurt turns bright red and makes a sound that’s close to a squeak. “I’m fine!” 

“Need me to carry those for you?” Puck asks, and Kurt quickly shakes his head. 

“I’m fine, really!” Kurt insists. 

“I’ll bring the vinaigrette to the table,” Finn says. 

“Thanks, babe,” Puck says, looking over at him and grinning. Kurt looks like he might lose all blood flow to everywhere but his face as he sits down, still clutching the figs. Finn puts the vinaigrette and the remaining salad components on the table and then sits next to Puck, catty-corner to Kurt. 

“Yes, thank you,” Kurt says absently. 

“Hmm?” Finn says, cutting his eyes to Puck, both of them obviously fighting laughter. “What was that?”

Kurt looks up, clearly startled and equally clearly without a clue as to what he just said. “Oh, um. Pass the goat cheese?” 

Finn picks up the bowl with the goat cheese and hands it to Kurt. “Here.”

“Thank you!” Kurt says, a bit too enthusiastically. Puck looks up at Finn and grins with a quick wink. Finn bites down on the inside of his lip to stifle the laugh that’s trying to escape. Definitely a lot more fun than tiptoeing around each other, whatever the final outcome may be. 

“So, Kurt,” Puck says between bites after they each have their salad assembled, “what did you want to do after dinner?” 

Kurt coughs around the bite of salad in his mouth, then takes a drink of water. “You, uh, mentioned dessert?” 

“Right. Angel food cake, and I said I’d make whipped cream,” Finn says. 

Puck nods. “But after that?” 

“Oh, um, whatever you’d like to do,” Kurt says quickly. 

“Finish your salad and I’ll go whip that cream,” Finn says, still fighting the laugh. 

Puck’s grin is huge. “I’m sure we can all find something to do, right, babe?” 

“Right,” Finn says. 

“Right, Kurt?” Puck asks. 

“Yes?” 

Finn does finally let himself laugh. “Yeah, I think this is going to work.”


	11. Chapter 11

Nothing happens that night, outside of a little good-natured flirting. They go to bed not long after finishing their angel food cake, even though it’s still early, because Finn feels like they’ve put in a full day’s work. Despite the sex that afternoon, Finn still wakes up a couple times in the night to Puck’s hands on him, like it was when they were still in college and just figuring this whole thing out. 

They sleep late, all three of them, and Finn’s the first up at about five past ten. He puts on coffee and starts dicing vegetables for omelets. Puck wakes up next, wandering into the kitchen to pour himself a cup of coffee and kiss the back of Finn’s neck. Puck stands behind Finn, leaning on him without putting any significant weight on him, for a few minutes before he straightens. 

“Want me to get out the eggs?” 

“Omelet prep’s that obvious, huh?” Finn says. 

“Or I can read your mind,” Puck says, turning towards Finn and raising and lowering his eyebrows once. 

“Yeah? What am I thinking now?”

“That I should get out nine eggs, obviously.”

“Not exactly,” Finn says. He tilts his head down to kiss Puck. 

“That omelets can wait a few more moments?” Puck guesses again after they kiss. 

“Yeah, that was a little more what I had in mind.”

“It probably is better to pause at this point in preparation, yeah,” Puck says, kissing Finn again. 

“Wouldn’t want the eggs to get warm or anything,” Finn says. 

“Warm eggs _are_ a great tragedy.” 

Finn reaches around Puck and grabs his ass. “You know what _isn’t_ a tragedy, though?”

Puck jumps a little, going briefly onto his toes before moving closer to Finn. “Mmm, what?” 

Finn smiles. “Me taking you back to bed and—”

“Good morning,” Kurt’s voice says from just outside the kitchen, followed by a yawn. 

Finn doesn’t release Puck, but he does turn his head towards Kurt, still smiling. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” Puck says. “Want to join us?” 

Kurt jumps, too, though with less movement than Puck. “Excuse me?” 

Finn laughs at the look on Kurt’s face, then lets go of Puck’s ass with one hand, reaching towards Kurt instead. “Kitchen’s open.”

“I, um, I can see that,” Kurt says uncertainly, but he takes Finn’s hand. 

Puck grins. “And we haven’t gotten the eggs out yet, so no worries there.” 

Finn laughs again. He presses his face to the side of Puck’s neck, and whispers, “Oh my God, you want to put him in an omelet.”

“Is he kosher?” Puck whispers back. 

“Not sure any of this is kosher,” Finn says, “but it’s fun so far.”

Puck shrugs. “Not that I keep kosher anyway. Kurt?” 

“Yes?” Kurt says, still sounding uncertain. “I mean, what was the question?” 

“C’mere,” Finn says, waving Kurt towards them with the arm still extended. Kurt steps forward, nodding once as if he were talking to himself. Finn waves him in more vigorously. Kurt steps forward again, a little more tentatively, but he manages to come within inches of them. 

“We don’t bite,” Puck says. “Well, Finn might, but you have to ask very nicely.” 

“Hey! It’s not a habitual thing!” Finn protests. 

“Very _very_ nicely,” Puck says. 

“I’ll keep that in mind?” Kurt says.

“Come here,” Finn says gently. “Just come here.” Kurt nods again and steps the remainder of the way to them, his arms hovering a little awkwardly. Finn wraps his free arm around Kurt and pulls him against them.

Kurt doesn’t immediately relax, but Puck puts one arm around Kurt, too, and after what feels like several minutes, Kurt suddenly sags against the two of them, his arms holding onto them firmly. 

“Yeah, it’s okay,” Puck says quietly. 

“I know it’s been hard,” Finn says. “I know. We’re here, though. It’s okay. This is okay.”

Kurt continues hugging the two of them for several more minutes before he starts quietly sniffling. Finn realizes Kurt is crying and pulls him in tighter, so he’s pressed between Finn and Puck’s bodies. Kurt cries for a little longer, and Puck pats his back and pets his head a few times. After a bit, Kurt straightens a little. 

“Sorry,” Kurt whispers. 

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Finn says. 

“It’s just that… I miss him,” Kurt says, “but I also…” 

“You also what?” Puck asks, and Kurt shakes his head. 

“It’s okay,” Finn says. “Talking about it might help.”

Kurt sighs and stays silent, then sighs a second time. “I also don’t. Or I miss him but I also miss the idea of him more.” 

“The idea of him?” Finn asks. 

“All of the things he was to me,” Kurt says slowly. “My high school sweetheart, my husband, all of the _titles_ and roles.” 

“You miss how things used to be,” Finn says. 

“Was it the predictability of it?” Puck asks. “You knew he would be here, and how he would react? Because I think that’s something fair to miss.” 

“Maybe. A little, yes,” Kurt says. 

“Do you feel like you _should_ miss him more?” Puck asks gently, and Kurt nods. 

“I don’t think there’s a _should_ in this kind of situation,” Finn says. “I think however you feel is the right way. It’s different for everybody.”

“Maybe it means I didn’t love him enough, or the right way, or not anymore,” Kurt says. “Isn’t that what it probably means?” 

Puck shrugs. “It might. It might not. Even if it means all three of those at the same time, somehow, it’s still okay.” 

“We’re not going to tell you how you feel is wrong,” Finn says. He kisses the top of Kurt’s head. 

“That’s almost too easy,” Kurt says. “Shouldn’t I feel guilty?” 

“No,” Puck says. “Did you ask him to die?” 

“No!” 

“Then don’t feel guilty,” Puck says. 

“Feeling guilty doesn’t help anybody, especially not yourself,” Finn says. “You’ve been making yourself sick over it. You don’t deserve that.”

“I guess I thought I did,” Kurt says quietly. 

Puck shakes his head, running his hand over Kurt’s head again and patting his back. “No. You don’t.” 

“If this is what you need, this right here, you can have it, okay? You can just be here with us like this. It doesn’t have to change, if you want, or it _can_ change,” Finn says. 

“I don’t know. Sometimes all of this feels like a dream. I don’t know what I need, or even what I want,” Kurt says. 

“So we’ll help you figure that out, if you want us to,” Puck says. 

Finn runs his hand down Kurt’s side, making eye contact with Puck over Kurt’s shoulder. “We don’t want you to feel alone. We don’t want you to feel guilty.”

Kurt laughs a little, almost brittle. “What if I feel guilty for not feeling guilty?” 

“We don’t want that, either,” Finn says. 

“We know it’s not going to be like this,” Puck says, snapping his fingers. “But we’re here for awhile yet, remember?” 

Kurt nods. “I remember.” 

“So, before I start making these omelets, is there anything you want from us?” Finn asks. 

Kurt doesn’t say anything for a moment, then nods a little. “After we eat, can we sit like this for awhile?” 

“Of course,” Finn says. 

“And I can let you know after that?” 

Puck nods. “Absolutely.” 

“Would you like to help me cut up vegetables for the omelets, or did you want a cup of coffee and to sit in the living room with Puck?” Finn asks Kurt. 

“Come on,” Puck offers. “You don’t _really_ trust Finn with that knife near you, do you?” 

“Hey! I’m an excellent dicer!”

Kurt laughs very briefly. “Yes, coffee would be nice, thank you.” 

“See?” Puck says, grinning at Finn. 

“Is this how it’s going to be?” Finn asks, grinning back. “The two of you ganging up on me?”

“For today. Tomorrow, you get to gang up on me,” Puck says. 

“I like this plan. The day after tomorrow, it’s back to Finn, right?” Kurt says innocently. 

Finn laughs and releases Puck and Kurt so he can turn back towards his omelet prep. “Just let me know when it’s our day to gang up on you, okay?” he says to Kurt. 

“I think we’ll have to claim that one,” Puck says, getting out a mug to pour Kurt a cup of coffee. “We’ll get out of your hair. Just don’t give yourself a five-egg omelet and us each only two eggs.” 

“If you two don’t watch it, I’m using the rest of the goat cheese in my omelet and you don’t get any cheese at all,” Finn says. 

Puck laughs and hands Kurt his coffee. “We’d better clear out, then, before he exacts his revenge via goat cheese.” 

“You two behave while I’m cooking,” Finn says, gesturing at them with a bell pepper. 

Kurt laughs a little and Puck nods. “Beware the bell pepper, Kurt. Beware the bell pepper.”


	12. Chapter 12

By the time they’ve eaten breakfast and started the after-meal clean up, even Kurt looks relaxed, laughing at the stories Finn and Puck keep trading off telling. Puck apparently decides to go for maximum humor by pulling out some really old stories about Finn, some of which predate high school. 

“That’s _not_ how it happened,” Finn insists, interrupting Puck’s wildly over-embellished story about how Finn got a particular sunburn during the summer before eighth grade. 

“That is exactly how it happened,” Puck says as he shakes his head at Finn. “Down to the olive oil and aloe vera mixup.” 

“I wasn’t the one who got the bottle from the cabinet,” Finn says. 

“He was,” Puck says to Kurt. 

“You didn’t notice it was very oily?” Kurt asks Finn. 

“Well, I did once it was on my back,” Finn says. 

“Carole kept saying all evening she didn’t know why she was suddenly craving Italian!” Puck says triumphantly. “Every time she said it, Finn squirmed.” 

“You’ve got to admit, though, my skin was _really_ soft after that,” Finn says. “Smooth like a baby.”

“You want me to start using olive oil on your back again, is that it?” Puck asks. 

“You could mix it up a bit, use coconut or even peanut some evenings,” Kurt says. 

Finn wrinkles his nose and swats at Kurt with the dishtowel. Kurt squeals and springs away from the snapping towel, resulting in him backing into Puck’s chest. Puck laughs and puts his hands on Kurt’s shoulders. 

“Peanut, so we’ll crave french fries,” Puck says. 

“Coconut, so we’ll crave the beach,” Finn counters. “Wouldn’t you like to be at the beach right now, drinking a piña colada or something?”

“It’s easier to get french fries than get to the beach,” Puck says. 

“Either way, I think we’ve established that baby-soft skin is a priority of Finn’s,” Kurt says. 

“I like to think my baby-soft skin benefits everyone,” Finn says.

Puck grins. “We can make sure to introduce you to people with a mention of it.”

“This is Finn, who has baby-soft skin,” Kurt says solemnly. 

“You’ll appreciate it later, is all I’m saying,” Finn says, returning to drying the breakfast plates. 

“Oh no, Kurt, do you have peanut oil?” Puck asks, gasping loudly after Kurt shakes his head. “Poor Finn’s skin.” 

“My skin’s just fine, smartass,” Finn says. “If you’re lucky, I’ll let you feel it when I’m done with these dishes.”

“Or if you can’t stand up to the power two against one,” Puck says with a shrug. 

Finn smiles over his shoulder at Puck. “Shaking in my boots, babe.”

“You shook so much you’re barefoot,” Kurt says. “Clearly we’re formidable.” 

“Mmm. Looking forward to your awesome power,” Finn says, winking at Kurt. 

“I think he’s mocking us,” Kurt stage-whispers to Puck. 

“No, I know he is,” Puck says. “We should set up a trap.” 

“Not much of a trap if you’re talking about it where I can hear it,” Finn points out. 

“Were you going to avoid said trap?” Kurt asks. 

“Nah.”

“Then I think we’re good,” Kurt says almost brightly. 

“He’s right. Where would you like us to spring the trap?” Puck asks. 

Finn dries his hands on the dishtowel and sets it down on the counter. “Kitchen’s probably not my first choice, but hey, I guess wherever the trap is set, that’s where I’ll have to deal with it.”

“Sofa?” Puck says to Kurt, who nods. “We’ll see you in the other room, then,” Puck says to Finn, before steering Kurt out of the kitchen.

Finn chuckles to himself, shaking his head as he gives the kitchen a quick once-over to make sure there’s nothing left out that needs to be washed or refrigerated. When he’s sure the kitchen’s in a passable state of cleanliness, he moseys into the living room, looking as nonchalant as possible. 

“Come sit,” Puck says, just as nonchalantly. 

Finn keeps his face schooled into a serious expression as he sits on the sofa next to Kurt, Kurt sandwiched between Finn and Puck. Kurt smiles too-innocently at Finn. “Comfortable?” he asks. 

“Very,” Finn says. “You?”

“I am,” Kurt says, then looks over at Puck and nods a little. Puck nods back, and then Finn has three hands on his arm and one hand on his back. 

“Uh oh. Did I walk into a trap?” Finn asks. 

“Straight into it,” Puck says. “Very naive of you.” 

Finn shakes his head in mock-disappointment in himself. “Like a deer in the headlights. I just can’t get away.”

“Oh no, don’t play possum,” Kurt says. 

“Yeah, we were promised some benefits to us for your skin,” Puck agrees.

“Probably need access to some skin for that to happen,” Finn says. He lifts his eyebrows at Puck, waiting for a nod before pulling his shirt over his head and letting it drop. 

“There we go,” Puck says, and he puts his hand over one of Kurt’s, slowly moving it up Finn’s arm. Kurt looks like he’s holding his breath, but he doesn’t pull away. Finn leans against Kurt, smiling encouragingly. Puck puts his other hand on Finn’s back again, scratching lightly as he moves his fingers down. 

“Not quite a piña colada,” Kurt murmurs. 

“No sand in our clothes, though,” Finn says. He rests his hand on Kurt’s thigh, spreading his fingers to cover as much leg as possible. 

“The lack of sand _is_ an asset,” Puck says, sliding Kurt’s hand onto the front of Finn’s shoulder. Kurt nods, moving his other a little higher on Finn’s arm on his own. Finn makes eyes contact with Puck again, double-checking, then he leans in to press his lips to Kurt’s. 

Kurt startles, almost imperceptibly, then quickly relaxes, not quite returning the kiss but definitely not pulling away. Puck’s hand on Finn’s back stops moving, and he spreads out his fingers firmly against Finn’s skin. Finn kisses Kurt harder, still leaning in, so Kurt’s pushed against Puck’s chest. 

“Yeah, that’s good,” Puck says, and he moves his hand up to the back of Finn’s neck. Finn takes that as a signal to slide his hand higher up Kurt’s thigh, until the back of Finn’s hand is brushing against Kurt’s cock through his lounge pants. Kurt is already notably hard. Kurt’s kiss stutters for a second, and Puck’s fingers squeeze Finn. Finn reaches across Kurt with his free hand and squeezes Puck’s knee in response. 

Kurt keeps moving his hand, around to Finn’s back and then down as they continue kissing. Finn kisses Kurt until they’re both breathless, then pulls away and says, “You ought to give Puck a chance, too.”

“Oh, yes,” Kurt says, and he starts to turn before he freezes. “Wait, are we _sure_? We could slow things down to make sure…” 

“No slowing down,” Finn says, nudging Kurt in Puck’s direction. “Not less. More.”

“You heard him,” Puck says, reaching with the hand not on Finn’s neck to turn Kurt’s face towards him before kissing Kurt. Kurt startles just like he did with Finn, then relaxes again, also like he did with Finn. Finn takes this opportunity to cup Kurt’s cock through his pants, running his thumb along it. He can see Kurt jump a little, but Puck kisses Kurt harder in response. 

Finn laughs. “See? More.” Puck lifts his hand from Kurt’s face to give Finn a thumbs up, and Kurt makes a sound that’s almost a squeak. Finn curls his fingers around Kurt’s cock through the fabric as best he can and starts kissing the back of Kurt’s neck. 

Kurt’s entire body shivers once, then he seems to relax almost to the point of going limp. Puck kisses him for a moment or two longer before pulling away. “Yeah, you were definitely right,” Puck says over Kurt’s shoulder to Finn. 

“Oh yeah?” Finn says. “I mean, I’m usually right, but I like it when you tell me why.”

“More, not less,” Puck says. 

“Oh yeah,” Finn agrees. He plants more kisses on the back of Kurt’s neck while making eye contact with Puck. “A lot more. No time to think about it, just time to do it.”

“Exactly,” Puck says, leaning forward and kissing Kurt’s shoulder. Kurt wiggles a little, then nods slowly. 

“Okay,” Kurt says. 

“Want to move this to a bedroom?” Finn asks. 

“We can use the guest bedroom, if yours is, you know, too much,” Puck says to Kurt. 

“Either way,” Kurt says softly. 

“Guest bed’s big enough,” Finn says. He stands, pulling Kurt up with him, and he and Puck practically manhandle Kurt back to the guest bedroom, with their hands and mouths all over him as they go. Puck toes the door most of the way closed as they walk in, then pulls back just enough to pull his t-shirt over his head. 

“Good?” Puck says. 

Kurt nods. “Good.” 

“It’s about to get better,” Finn says.


	13. Chapter 13

Finn’s back hits the bed. He pulls Kurt down on top of him, Puck settling at their right. Puck has one hand on Finn’s arm and the other on Kurt’s back, and he laughs just a moment after they end up on the bed. 

“We need to get _his_ shirt off,” Puck says. 

“Details,” Finn says, making a dismissive little _pfft_ at Puck. 

“Hey, details are important,” Puck says. “Kurt might even appreciate the assistance.” 

Kurt looks confused for a moment, then nods. “Right.” 

“Sure,” Finn says, pulling up on Kurt’s shirt until it goes over his head, then handing off the hem to Puck to wrestle the shirt down Kurt’s arms. 

“See, we’ll be glad we took care of that,” Puck says as he tosses the shirt off the side of the bed. He puts his hands back where they were, leaning in to kiss Kurt’s shoulder. Finn kisses Kurt’s other shoulder, shifting to let Kurt lie on his side between them. 

“Yeah, already glad,” Finn says. “Kurt?”

“I’m very glad,” Kurt says, and he wiggles a little, his skin brushing against theirs. Puck nods and runs his hand down Kurt’s side, his other hand moving to the top of Finn’s head. Finn tilts his head, bumping it against Puck’s hand like an insistent cat demanding more pets. 

“I call foul on pants, too,” Finn says, as Puck combs his fingers through Finn’s hair with a grin. “No reason for pants.”

“I knew you’d want pants off soon,” Puck says. He moves his hand through Finn’s hair again and starts wiggling a little himself, like he can manage to take his pants off without using either hand. Finn stifles a laugh, reaching across Kurt to help Puck get the pants past his hips. 

“No reason to slow down,” Finn says. His hand moves from Puck’s pants to Kurt’s ass, squeezing it before giving Kurt’s lounge pants a sharp downward tug. Kurt lets out a surprised noise that is almost a squeak as he lifts his hips. 

“I never said you were wrong,” Puck says. “Was he wrong, Kurt?”

Kurt shakes his head. “No, not wrong, but… now he’s behind,” Kurt finishes almost tentatively. 

“Easy fix,” Finn says in his most reassuring voice. He lets Puck finish pulling off Kurt’s pants while he works on his own, so that both pairs of pants hit the floor at almost the same time. 

“He meant to say he’s easy,” Puck says conspiratorially to Kurt. “You should take advantage of that and kiss him again.” 

Kurt startles a little but nods, looking at Finn only briefly before kissing him softly. Softly isn’t _more_ enough, though, so Finn kisses back hard, grabbing Kurt’s ass again. Kurt almost squeaks into Finn’s mouth, inadvertently deepening the kiss. The side of Puck’s hand brushes against the side of Finn’s a moment later, his other hand still in Finn’s hair. 

“Yeah, like that,” Puck says, followed by the sound of Puck kissing Kurt’s neck or shoulders. The back of Finn’s hand on Kurt’s ass brushes against Puck’s hip. Kurt moves around a little more as he and Finn kiss, then pulls away abruptly, clearly out of breath. 

Finn laughs. “You okay?”

“Fine,” Kurt says breathlessly. 

“Oh, I think he’s good,” Puck says. 

“Oh, good,” Finn says, “because I’m thinking more.”

“Any specific suggestions?” Puck says, lifting his head to grin at Finn as he slides his hand from Kurt’s ass to the top of Kurt’s hip. 

“Yeah. Why’d you stop moving your hand?” Finn asks. “Don’t just leave it there on his hip. Unless he gets off on hips or something. You don’t, right?” he asks Kurt. 

Kurt shakes his head. “I don’t know what that’d look like,” he admits. 

“Just giving everyone time to admire the view,” Puck says, letting his hand slide down until his fingers are loosely wrapped around Kurt’s cock. 

“Got to keep the momentum up, babe,” Finn says. 

“Believe it or not,” Puck stage-whispers in Kurt’s ear, “I’m the one who got a speeding ticket last year, and he’s the one who pulled over at four different scenic overlooks.” He strokes Kurt’s cock slowly, his grip still loose. Finn wiggles the hand on Kurt’s ass, flipping it over to curl his fingers around Puck’s cock.

“Momentum,” Finn insists, moving his hand a little faster on Puck’s cock than Puck’s hand is moving on Kurt’s.

“I can believe all of that, actually,” Kurt says with a small laugh, wiggling again between them. 

“Yeah, yeah, I hear your momentum,” Puck says, his hand still in Finn’s hair, but he does start sliding his hand more quickly than before. 

“You like my momentum,” Finn says. He kisses Kurt again, harder this time, grazing Kurt’s bottom lip with his teeth. 

“No complaints,” Puck agrees. He pushes his hips forward, closer to Finn’s hand and Kurt’s ass, and keeps his hand moving at a steady pace. Kurt seems to be almost lost in the moment, participating but not initiating. Finn pulls his mouth away from Kurt and flips him onto his other side, facing Puck. 

Finn kisses the back of Kurt’s neck. “We both want to be here with you,” he says softly into Kurt’s ear. Kurt nods a little, stopping as Puck kisses him with a little more force than initially. Puck puts his other hand in the back of Finn’s hair, pulling him forward. Finn lifts his head, craning his neck a little to kiss Puck over Kurt’s shoulder. 

Puck kisses Kurt for a few more moments, then pulls back, looking at Finn and then back at Kurt. “How do we want to do this?” he asks. 

“Let’s sit up,” Finn says. 

Puck nods and pushes himself into a sitting position before offering Kurt his hand. Kurt takes it and pulls himself up, looking somewhat dazed still. Puck settles back on his heels and starts kissing Kurt again. Finn kisses the back of Kurt’s neck a few times before reaching for the nightstand drawer, opening it to retrieve the bottle of lube. Kurt seems to relax again into the kissing, moving with Puck as he shifts their position slightly on the bed to align with the headboard. 

Finn pours lube onto his fingers. He reaches between Kurt’s legs, pressing his upper chest to Kurt’s back while circling Kurt’s hole with the slick pads of his index and middle fingers. Kurt lets out a muffled noise as he and Puck keep kissing, his back briefly tensing before relaxing again. Finn applies gentle pressure, pushing until the tips of his fingers barely enter Kurt. 

Puck reaches out with one hand, barely brushing the tips of his fingers against Finn’s arm, his other hand on Kurt’s shoulder. Kurt tenses again, then seems to kiss Puck even harder. Finn’s fingers slip deeper into Kurt as Finn returns to kissing the back of Kurt’s neck and shoulders. 

“You’re good?” Puck asks Kurt softly after a couple of minutes. Kurt nods. 

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” Finn says. Now that his fingers are deep inside Kurt, he starts moving them slowly, fucking Kurt with them as he makes eye contact with Puck over Kurt’s shoulder. 

“Yes,” Kurt says as he nods again. Puck smiles at Finn, nodding a little himself. 

“It’s good to be here with you, all three of us together,” Finn says. He can feel Kurt relaxing around his fingers, so he moves them a little faster, pressing his fingertips to Kurt’s prostate on each inward movement. 

Kurt’s breath catches, and within a few strokes, he starts moving to meet Finn’s fingers. Finn smiles at Puck. “Yeah, it is good,” Puck says. “Ready?” 

“Yeah,” Finn says. He slides his fingers out of Kurt, taking Kurt by both shoulders and turning him around. Puck puts his hands over Finn’s for a moment before pulling Kurt closer and slowly guiding him into place. He moves his hands to Kurt’s shoulders, pressing gently. 

“I’m good,” Kurt says, smiling. With Kurt’s legs spread and splayed over the sides of Puck’s legs, Finn can see Puck’s cock buried deep inside Kurt. Finn smiles at Kurt, then flicks his eyes slightly upward and to the side to make eye contact with Puck again. 

“Yeah, he’s good,” Puck says, grinning at Finn. “How about you?” 

Finn moves closer, his knees on either side of Puck’s knees. He takes Kurt’s cock in his hand. “Yeah, this is good.” Kurt wriggles a little, which makes Puck laugh. 

“You like that?” Puck says, his mouth just below Kurt’s ear, and Kurt nods. Puck moves his hands to Kurt’s hips, lifting him minutely and kissing his neck. “And that?” Kurt nods again. “Yeah, we can do that.” 

“You can move, too, if you want,” Finn tells Kurt. He strokes Kurt’s cock from the base upward, encouraging Kurt to thrust up into his hand.

Kurt doesn’t say anything else immediately, but he does start actively moving, sliding up and down Puck’s cock and into Finn’s hand. Puck puts his chin just above Kurt’s shoulder, grinning at Finn again. 

“Yeah, he likes that idea,” Puck says. 

“It’s good for us, all together like this,” Finn says. “Is it good like this, Kurt?”

“Yes,” Kurt says. “It is.” 

“Can you help Finn join in a little more?” Puck says, nudging his face against Kurt’s neck. “Soooo pitiful.” 

Kurt laughs but slowly reaches for Finn’s cock, putting his hand around it loosely. Finn can’t help the noise he makes when Kurt touches him. 

Puck laughs. “Yeah, you could have asked,” he says to Finn. 

“I was focusing on Kurt,” Finn says, closing his eyes briefly. “I was just—mmm, yeah, like that—making sure he felt focused on.”

“Everyone feels focused on now,” Puck says. 

“Yes,” Kurt says. “I think so.” 

“Yeah, we’re all focused on, all together, all three of us,” Finn says. Kurt’s cock feels even harder in Finn’s hand as Finn strokes it faster. Kurt moves more quickly, too, thrusting into Finn’s hand as he slides up and down on Puck’s cock. Kurt’s free hand lands on Finn’s chest, grasping a little, and his breathing gets shallower. 

“We want to see you come,” Puck says to Kurt. 

Finn watches Kurt’s face. Kurt’s eyes are wide and clear, his lips parted, and he looks almost like he’s preparing for something. Finn runs his thumb over the slick tip of Kurt’s cock, and Kurt comes immediately, moaning a little as he does. Puck keeps his hands on Kurt’s hips, still thrusting into him while Kurt comes. 

Finn looks at Puck now, focusing his attention on Puck’s face. He feels himself getting close, so close, with Kurt’s hand still on him. Puck smiles at him as he moves. 

“Your turn,” Puck says. 

“Yeah,” Finn says, his hips jerking forward as he comes in Kurt’s hand. 

Puck comes a few seconds later, crying out but still staying upright, letting Kurt’s back rest against his chest. Kurt looks almost limp, and he stays still for at least a minute before suddenly letting out a loud, deep sigh. Seconds after that, tears start spilling from his eyes. 

“Hey,” Finn says softly, wiping tears away from Kurt’s cheek with his thumb. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay.”

“I know,” Kurt says, but he cries a little harder as he says it. Puck slowly and carefully maneuvers Kurt so that he’s between the two of them, Puck’s arms stretched around both Kurt and Finn. 

“We’re right here,” Puck says. 

“You’re here with us. We’ll stay with you as long as you need us,” Finn says, wrapping his arms around Kurt and Puck as well. 

Kurt nods, leaning his head against their arms as he continues to cry. The occasional hitching sob escapes, but most of Kurt’s body seems relaxed. “I know,” Kurt repeats after a long time. “Thank you.” 

“You really are going to be okay,” Puck says. “But we’ll be here until you realize it, too.”


	14. Chapter 14

Things seem to stabilize quickly, or at least Kurt seems to. Maybe they weren’t wrong in thinking what he needed was some physical comfort and affection, and an inclusion in a bigger relationship, something strong enough to help pull him out of his funk. He still has rough days, and sex between the three of them continues to occasionally involve Kurt having a mini-breakdown during or after the fact. He allows them to comfort him, though, which is forward movement Finn’s happy to see. 

Finn knows this thing with them, all three of them, can’t last. It has a distinct time limit on it, for when Finn and Puck have to return to Milwaukee. Finn doesn’t resent that time limit. What they’re doing with Kurt is clearly good for Kurt, and it’s fun for Finn, too, but it’s fun like a vacation, and when it’s all said and done, he’ll want to return home with and to Puck and only Puck. This works under these special circumstances, but Puck’s still the only one Finn really needs or wants, outside this little bubble they’re currently sharing with Kurt. 

From the beginning, Finn’s been considering their exit strategy, and making sure that Kurt can cope with his life once they’re gone. The physical intimacy can’t become a crutch. It also can’t be less than what it is – it’s not just some hook up for any of them, a way for Kurt to get off or for Finn and Puck to “spice up their marriage” or however people might put it. The connection there is real, and it’s important. Finn just knows it’s also not something he or Puck want for the long term. Their marriage is good as a marriage of two, but this summer with Kurt matters. 

“I think Kurt needs to start getting out with other people,” Finn says to Puck as they’re sharing a shower, a week after their first morning with Kurt. The shared showers are a new thing they’ve been doing since it started. Some nights all three of them sleep entangled in the guest bed, and some nights Kurt sleeps alone in his room, but Puck and Finn’s shared showers are one-hundred-percent them time. 

“Maybe if we told him we wanted to meet some of his friends?” Puck suggests. “Go with him a couple of times.” 

“Then bow out from the next few times, but still encourage him to go,” Finn says. 

Puck nods. “Exactly. Same with work, maybe. Ask him for a tour.” 

“Just get him back out there, so he can live his life again,” Finn says. He picks up the loofa and starts scrubbing Puck’s back. “You’re doing okay with all of this?”

“Yeah. Maybe a little better than I thought I would be, actually,” Puck says, dropping his head forward. “It’s weirdly like mentoring someone new at work.” 

“Is it… do you think you’d be interested in this kind of thing once we’re home?”

Puck shakes his head slowly. “There’s already _an_ existing bond with Kurt, you know? A different type, but there.” 

“Okay. I don’t want anything like that, either,” Finn says. “But we kind of changed the rules for ourselves here, and I want to make sure we know where we stand on everything, just between us, once this is over.”

“Yeah, we did. We carved out a little exception, time-wise, place-wise, person-wise, is sort of how I look at it,” Puck says. 

“Yeah. Turn around, I’ll wash your front.”

Puck pivots. “Just wash?” 

“Did I say _just_?” Finn says. He scrubs the loofa in small circles down Puck’s chest and stomach, until his front is soap, then he wraps his hand around Puck’s cock. “Unless you _just_ want me to wash you.”

Puck puts his hands on Finn’s shoulders, grinning. “I definitely don’t want to limit you.”

They do manage to get out of the shower before the hot water runs out. Once they’re dressed and out in the kitchen, cups of coffee in their hand and Kurt’s, Finn says, “So, Kurt, I feel like we’ve been monopolizing you since we’ve been here.”

“Oh?” Kurt says, looking slightly confused. 

“We know you have a whole life here, and we love that you’ve been taking us to places around the city and all that, but we’d like to meet your friends,” Finn says. “See the other parts of your life, you know?”

“Oh, yes, I suppose so,” Kurt says, still looking a little confused, as well as apprehensive. “I could probably reach out, see what’s going on this weekend?” 

“That would be great. And we don’t have to say anything to them about the three of us, if you’re not comfortable with it. We just want to meet them,” Finn says. 

Kurt nods, some relief clear on his face. “Would you rather do something quieter or something more loud?” 

“What do you like to on a Friday night?” Finn asks. 

“There’s this almost dive of a piano bar,” Kurt says. “I can see if anyone’s up for a visit.” 

“I think we can manage a piano bar,” Puck says. “Don’t you, Finn?” 

“So… you’re saying there’s drinking _and_ singing?” Finn asks. 

“Surely you’ve done _that_ before,” Kurt says, a hint of a smile on his face. 

“Yeah, you might be able to convince me to sing. I might’ve have been in a Nationals-winning glee club back in the day,” Finn says. “You two don’t remember anything like that, do you?”

“Hmm,” Puck says. “Did it involve, by chance, last minute choreography?” 

Finn grabs Puck’s hand and pulls, spinning him in. “Like that?”

Puck laughs. “Yeah, like that. I seem to remember something about that.” 

“The real question, then, is how the drinking impacts that,” Kurt says. 

“I guess the only way we’ll know is if we try,” Finn says. “Call your friends. It sounds like a lot of fun.”

“I’ll see what I can arrange,” Kurt says. “Dinner, too?” 

“Sure. We’ll make it a whole thing,” Finn says. 

“Not a vegan place, though,” Puck says. 

“Oh?” Kurt asks. “I mean, I wasn’t planning on a vegan place, so that’s fine.” 

“This’ll be fun. It’ll be nice to get out with a bunch of people,” Finn says. 

“Exactly,” Puck says. 

“I’ll go ahead and go call,” Kurt says, setting down his coffee and leaving the kitchen. 

Finn waits for Kurt to leave the room before he quietly says to Puck, “I think that was a good idea.”

Puck nods. “Yeah, he seems almost excited about it, doesn’t he?” 

“Yeah, he does,” Finn says, smiling. “So what do you think you’ll sing at the piano bar?”

“Maybe I should go with something classic,” Puck says. 

“Are you going to sing us a song, you’re the piano man?”

“Well, there’s not a song called ‘Guitar Man’ that’s very catchy,” Puck points out. 

“Maybe we could bust out the Journey for old time’s sake,” Finn suggests. 

Puck grins. “The _true_ classic, huh?” 

“Could be fun.”

“We could really go old-school and attempt to write our own,” Puck says with a straight face. 

“Oh God, not for piano night!” Finn says. “Nobody deserves to be subjected to that, let alone Kurt’s friends!”

“That’d be one way to make sure they really didn’t guess!” Puck laughs. “No way Kurt would do anything with people who write that kind of song.” 

“Maybe we’ll come up with a really good one for next time, how’s that?” Finn asks. He puts his arms around Puck, kissing the side of his neck. 

“Can we find a way to incorporate ‘rickets’ somehow, though?” Puck says, tilting his head to the side. 

“I’m sure we can manage it somehow,” Finn says. 

Puck grins. “Yeah, we probably can. We make a damn good team, after all.” 

“Best in the world,” Finn agrees.


	15. Chapter 15

The night out at the piano bar goes well. Four of Kurt’s friends meet up with them, and they order lots of cocktails and spend the night singing increasingly campy showtunes. By the end of the evening, Kurt looks relaxed, more so than he’s looked since Finn and Puck arrived in New York. When they get back to the apartment, Kurt gives them each a quick, but sincere kiss goodnight, and goes to bed in his own room. 

“Hey, we did good,” Puck says quietly as soon as they close the guest room door. 

“Yeah, we did,” Finn says. “This was good for him. We should encourage him to plan another outing.”

“And then the third or fourth time, one of us can come down with the stomach flu.” 

“Ease him into getting out there on his own,” Finn agrees. 

“I mean, I don’t think he’s faking anything, this time,” Puck says as he sits down on the edge of the bed. “Do you?” 

“No, it seems genuine. He was having a good time, an actual good time.” Finn sits next to Puck, putting one arm around his waist. “It was nice.”

“Yeah, it was good,” Puck agrees. He leans against Finn. “You know what this summer has reminded me?” Finn shakes his head. “Why we don’t live here all the time.” 

Finn laughs. “Oh yeah, me too! Too many people!”

“Exactly,” Puck says, exhaling and shaking his head. “I couldn’t believe how many people were in that small of a space tonight.” 

“I miss personal space. I mean, I like _you_ close, but not a room full of strangers,” Finn says. 

“Or walking down the street without accidentally bumping shoulders.” 

“Or paying that much for a bag full of dandelion greens,” Finn says. “Who even eats dandelion greens? How is that a trend? We used to grow those in our yard accidentally.”

“Your mom should have applied for a farmers’ market permit,” Puck says with a laugh. 

“If only we’d known,” Finn says. He shakes his head, then gives Puck a quick kiss before standing to undress for bed. 

Puck pulls his t-shirt over his head. “There’s still time before the trend hits the Midwest.” 

A few pleasant days pass, with more farmers’ market visits and dinners cooked at home, before Finn and Puck suggest to Kurt that he should plan another outing with his friends. Kurt seems even more enthusiastic about the idea this time, and instead of a piano bar, they end up at some kind of 20s-themed jazz lounge. 

“Did you know this was going to be jazz?” Finn whispers to Puck, while Kurt and his friends carry on an animated conversation about what Kurt’s friend Ben keeps referring to as ‘a renaissance of the Mandarin collar’.

“No,” Puck says as he shakes his head. “I thought a ‘club’ would have some dancing. And I don’t want whatever collar that is, either.” 

“I think it’s the kind you wear with a bolo tie,” Finn says. 

“We should dig up Sam’s address and let him know. He’ll be happy,” Puck says. 

Finn laughs. “Yeah, not a look we could ever pull off. Still…”

“Maybe we should pretend to care about this collar so Kurt’ll have to go visit the office, get more information.” 

“Good plan,” Finn says. “If we can get him back to work, that’ll be great.”

“And work’s more, you know, neutral territory for him, so that’s good, too,” Puck says. “We can spend the time we’re not dancing here practicing our best interested-in-fashion faces.” 

Finn schools his face into one he hopes reflects his genuine interest in a topic he has zero interest in. “How’s this?”

“That’s _very_ sincere,” Puck says. “I recognize that look from last year’s office holiday party.” 

“I don’t think I could be less interested in any topic than I am ‘the market’.”

“While Kurt’s visiting the office, we should go down to Wall Street and take a few pictures. Maybe I’ll get a promotion if I frame and hang ‘em at work.” 

Finn nods his agreement, and they spend the majority of the rest of the evening feigning interest in men’s fashion. Back at Kurt’s apartment, they stay up for a while, eating cheese and crackers, and though Kurt does give them a long, lingering look before heading to bed, he goes to his own room and doesn’t invite them in. 

Kurt doesn’t go into the office the next day, or the day after, but on the third day, he’s up early, dressed in a crisp white shirt that Finn _thinks_ has one of those Mandarin collars. 

“I think I’m going to drop by the office for an hour or so this morning,” Kurt says. “Ben wants my opinion on some blues.” 

“Ben’s the one that does the layouts, right?” Finn asks. 

“Among other things, yes. He’s the assistant art director,” Kurt says. 

“Think you’ll be back for lunch?” Finn asks. “No big deal if you aren’t. Take whatever time you need at the office.”

“Probably, yes,” Kurt says. “If you two happen to go out, I did use the last of the avocado this morning.” 

“Sure. We were probably going to go do a few things. Have fun,” Finn says. 

“At a minimum, I’ll have opinions about shades of blue,” Kurt says wryly, waving as he leaves. 

Finn turns to Puck, raising his eyebrows. “This is progress!”

“Maybe he really did just have to get going, so to speak,” Puck says. 

Finn nods. “And he’s gone to bed alone five of the last seven nights. Not that I’m complaining, but I’d kind of thought we’d have to be the ones who weaned him off our awesome sexiness.”

Puck laughs. “Don’t worry, I still think you’re awesome.” 

“And sexy?”

“Very sexy.” 

“Good,” Finn says. “I was starting to feel a little bad about myself.”

Finn and Puck do go out and run a few errands together. At just before noon, Finn’s phone dings with a text from Kurt. 

_I’m going to grab a quick lunch with Ben and Alexei; I’ll be back early this afternoon._

Finn give Puck a thumbs-up, then texts back _No problem. Have fun, see you tonight!_

“He’s staying through lunch?” Puck guesses. 

“Grabbing lunch with Ben and Alexei,” Finn says. “Has he mentioned Alexei before? I don’t know if I know who he is.”

Puck makes a face and then shakes his head. “I don’t think so. Sounds Russian. Maybe he just transferred?” 

“Maybe so. Either way, that’s good, that he’s not only seeing the same four people,” Finn says. 

“Yeah, exactly.” Puck pauses. “Does that mean we can eat lunch at The Burger Pub?” 

“You mean the place that’s ‘gross and greasy and barely passed health inspection’?” Finn asks, quoting Kurt’s review of the place. “Definitely.”


	16. Chapter 16

Another week passes, and suddenly Kurt is getting up every morning and going into the office again, returning to somewhat normal business hours. Finn starts looking at prices for their return flight to Milwaukee, not booking it yet, but formulating a timeline. They go out with Kurt’s friends again that Friday night, but when Kurt wants to go out Saturday as well, Finn begs off with a stomach ache. 

Kurt doesn’t get back until the wee hours of Sunday morning; Finn hears him as he’s closing the master bedroom door. Finn wraps himself around Puck a little more tightly and smiles. Kurt seems to have been doing an even better job of reintegrating into his life than Finn would have given him credit for, which means they’ve all managed to find ways to surprise each other this summer. 

Because they weren’t out until almost four, Finn and Puck are both up for several hours before Kurt. They enjoy the fresh bagels they’d snagged the night before, drinking coffee as they sit in the living room, taking in the view from Kurt’s windows. 

“So,” Finn says. 

“A needle pulling thread?” Puck responds immediately. 

“Yeah, we never should’ve gotten those tickets to the revival of _Sound of Music_ ,” Finn says. “That was the last thing you needed.”

“It’s a classic. It was a lot better than that other one Kurt got the evening tickets to, by the _Wicked_ guy,” Puck says. 

“Ohhh yeah, that was _bad_ ,” Finn says. 

“That book should _never_ have been made into a musical,” Puck says with a shudder. “Anyway. So… what?” 

“I think it’s time to talk extraction plan.”

“Did we join the Avengers?” Puck cranes his neck, like he’s looking up in the sky for something. “I don’t see any copters.” 

“Extracting ourselves,” Finn clarifies. “From here, back home.”

“Do you think Kurt’ll backslide? I mean, he seems like he’s doing pretty well.” 

“We could try taking a short trip, maybe a night or two out of the city, and see how he does,” Finn suggests. 

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Puck says. “Where’s a good place to go? Boston? Jersey Shore?” 

“Boston sounds good. We can take the train up, right?”

“Yeah, that Acela one goes up to it. We can see some whales and go to Fenway,” Puck says. “Then we’ll be back and find out if Kurt’s taken up a life of partying.” 

Finn knows Puck is mostly kidding, but he does have some legitimate concerns about Kurt hitting the pills and the booze again once they leave, so he nods. “Yeah. Everything goes well, we can book our flight home. If not, we’ll have to start looking at some kind of long-term option. Summer’s not going to last for much longer.”

“Yeah, I don’t think a PA would fill in that gap. Want me to find us a hotel in Boston?” 

“Yes,” Finn says. He catches Puck’s hand and pulls him in to kiss him hard for several minutes. When they finally break away, he says, “Thank you for all of this.”

Puck squeezes Finn’s thigh with one hand. “Where else would I be?” 

That evening, when Finn tells Kurt they’re going to Boston for the weekend, Kurt doesn’t seem particularly put out by their plans. 

“Oh, okay, good,” Kurt says. “I needed to tell you that I was going to go to the opera with Alexei. He only had one extra ticket.” 

Finn cuts a glance over to Puck. “Hey, good timing,” Finn says. “Which department did you say Alexei worked in?”

“He’s the new Marketing Director,” Kurt says. 

“Nice,” Finn says. “Sounds like we’ll both have a good time this weekend.”

Kurt smiles. “Yes, it does.” 

Finn and Puck _do_ have a good time in Boston. The whale watching doesn’t pan out, but they catch two games at Fenway, and though they’re both clearly a little anxious about what they’ll find when they return to New York, Finn thinks they’re both hopeful, too.

“If he’s a mess, we’ll need to talk inpatient,” Finn says, “but my bet is that he’s going to be fine.” He squeezes Puck’s hand. “Right?”

“Yeah, I think so, too,” Puck says. “And I think that there’s at least one other person in his office with a vested interest in keeping it that way, don’t you?” 

“Yeah. I think _Vogue_ was glad to get him back,” Finn says. 

They take the bus from the train station back to Kurt’s apartment building, and Finn takes Puck’s hand in his in the elevator ride up to Kurt’s floor. Puck squeezes his hand. “Don’t worry, we’re not going to find evidence of Kurt doing lines on the coffee table.” 

“What if this Alexei has a coke problem?” Finn asks. “What if he’s a coke _dealer_?”

“Then we’ll just tell _Vogue_ and get him fired. Easy-peasy.” 

“Yeah. Okay, yeah, that makes sense,” Finn says. They exit the elevator and walk to Kurt’s apartment, letting themselves in quietly. The apartment looks clean, no discarded pill or wine bottles lying around, and as Finn carries their overnight bag back into the guest room, he sees Kurt in his own room. “Hey, Kurt. Nice weekend?”

“It was, yes,” Kurt says. “Did you enjoy Boston? Hopefully it didn’t rain there like it did here yesterday afternoon.” 

“No, it was nice,” Finn says. 

“Good, good. I thought we could order in some Thai or Indian for dinner?” Kurt says. 

“Sounds good. How was that opera with… what was his name?”

“Alexei,” Kurt says quickly. “It was very good.” He touches his hand to his throat and seems to turn a little pink. Finn grins at him.

“That’s great,” Finn says. “Think you’ll see him again? Like, outside of work and group functions.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Kurt says, but the pink gets more pronounced. 

Finn’s grin widens as he takes a step into Kurt’s room, leaning in to press a kiss to Kurt’s cheek. “Yeah, I’m sure,” he says to Kurt, giving him a wink as he pulls away. “I’m going to unpack, if you and Puck want to discuss dinner.”

They have Thai for dinner, and Kurt tells them all about the opera and what everyone was wearing, and the people they saw. Finn doesn’t even have to pretend to be interested, and he thinks the attentive look on Puck’s face is sincere, too, because Kurt seems so happy and animated that they probably both want him to keep talking. After dinner, Kurt retires to his room to go over something for work the next morning, and Finn and Puck stand side by side at the sink washing the dishes.

“I think I’m going to book our flight tomorrow,” Finn says casually. “If that’s good with you.”

“Yeah, I think that’s a good plan.” Puck hip checks him. “See? No doing lines.” 

“The Alexei thing is definitely a _thing_ , though,” Finn says. 

“A good thing, I think. We can make sure and mention him to your mom and Burt a few times, so they’re prepared,” Puck says. “Burt’ll have more trouble than anybody with Kurt dating again.” 

Finn nods. “Yeah. He and Blaine were close. Still, he wants Kurt to be okay, and part of being okay is Kurt getting on with his life.”

“And we have an entire summer of stories no one would ever believe if we told them.”


End file.
